Written in the Stars
by Adrea
Summary: AU fic. RL and others. The Xmen are on board the doomed sealiner Titanic amidst their own private war.
1. April 12th, 1912

**Disclaimer:** The song is from Aida, so credit to Disney. **Well, it was. Except for some insane reason even a disclaimer is no longer enough for this site. If you want the song, look it up online.** Most charaters are owned by Marvel, Fox, Warner Brothers, Universal, etc. etc. Why can't I? Look! They'll work for twinkies and beer! It's true! They did this fic for twinkies and beer. Although I had to throw in a few steaks and peeps somewhere...

**Author's Notes:** I tried to make it not exactly like Cameron's movie! But some things kinda snuck in there and stuck. Be prepared for suckiness! (that even a word?) Big shout out and thanks to my best friend JenN who unknowingly gave be ideas and knowingly gave me every ounce of support she could.

**_Written in the Stars_**

**Prologue:**

Sometimes, two souls are joined in eternal bliss. No matter how long the physical life may last, how little time they spend together on this earth, they shall be reborn and start the never-ending journey once more. Always seeking one another out, and always finding it despite the trials and perils that are thrown in their way.

No matter how impossible the odds, or how dire the circumstances, these two souls always prevail and emerge from the rubble victorious as one.

These souls make up the brightest stars in our sky, shining brightly in their splendor to guide the paths of those on the Earth. Through whatever fate is chosen of them, they will always be there.

**April 12th, 1912  
****5:38pm**

Cold wind whipped at her auburn hair with the white streak. Sun shown upon her young, childlike face, warming it against the cool breath of air. It was beautiful.

So she had imagined.

But as usual, she was cooped up in her room. Not allowed to leave except for meals. She was used to those sort of restrictions. Her poor blind mother needed her after all, while her father disappeared on business. She hardly knew her father. He would disappear for weeks or months at a time, then show for a day, perhaps two. Now on board the _R.M.S. Titanic_, he still found ways to disappear for hours at a time.

Marie Darkholme stood with her back to one of their maids while her corset was laced up. It was almost time for dinner, so she had to get ready. In another room, she knew her mother was getting suited with help from other maids.

Her family was rich, that was how they could afford one of the most expensive suites on the most luxurious ship in the world. A small smile spread across her lips as Marie heard her mother arguing with the maids.

"I told you I wanted the dark blue dress, not the green." The astounded voices of the maids only proved to Marie that, once again, her mother had somehow known.

Irene Alder Darkholme was blind from birth, and could sometimes be mentally unstable. It was a wonder why her father, Robert, ever married her. Irene wasn't her true mother, but she was the only mother she had known. Her father told her that her real mother had died giving birth to her.

"Marie?" Irene called from another room.

"Yes, mother?" Marie showed at the doorway, peeking in. Not seeming to care they both were only dressed in their underwear and corsets.

"Why don't you wear that nice Victorian rose and burgundy outfit we bought before the trip? Graydon loves burgundy."

No matter how hard she tried to hide it, her mother heard the groan that escaped Marie's lips. "Now, now, child. Graydon is a nice man, and will take good care of you. Your father and I cannot keep you forever."

Graydon and her were the whole reason the were taking this trip to America in the first place. Marriage. Marie had prayed she would never hear that word unless she wanted to, but alas, it had happened. Her father came home one day with a huge grin on his face, making him seem younger than he was. The reason for that grin was the news that he had closed a deal for his little Marie to be wed to Graydon Creed.

This was the dinner where she would first meet the man she was supposed to spend her life with. Marie had an overactive imagination, and had already conjured up a picture of the man. Old, ugly, teeth stained from too much brandy and smoking and not enough brushing. Short, stocky, but believing himself to be the only thing that mattered in life because he was rich.

It was so unfair. She guessed it was her fault, really. Reading all those romance novels and actually believing in true love. They corrupted her, according to her father. But to make them happy, she was like she was supposed to be. Ditzy, sweet, beautiful, available, and willing to do anything for her husband.

An uncontrollable snicker arose. It was a given that Marie could end the wedding plans at any moment if she acted like her true self around Graydon. But then that would greatly disappoint her parents, and she couldn't do that. They had given her everything, this was her payment in return. A life of complete misery.

Her dress was put on and her hair and makeup done perfectly. The last thing she donned were her gloves. For some odd reason, her father had forbid her to have physical contact with another human being. He said it was to keep her pure for the man she would marry, that it was the way things were done. Yet at parties, or at gatherings of some sort, Marie had always had reason to furrow her brow in confusion at seeing single proper girls go without gloves. Maybe it was because their parents just didn't know better.

"Dearie, are you ready?" her mother called.

"Yes, mother." Marie answered as she left her room. Her mother smile at her. Despite the black glasses and cane, her mother was still beautiful and looked perfectly normal. The smile she would give always caused Marie to smile in return, and somehow, Marie thought she knew that.

As usual, Marie took one of her mother's arms, to help lead her throughout the ship to the Reception Area. Hooking both of their trains to their gloved hands, they were ready to leave. "I imagine you look breathtaking, my dear."

"Thank you, mother. And you look beautiful too."

With an exchange of smiles, they set forth for dinner.

**April 12th, 1912  
****6:05pm**

Going down the Grand Staircase made Marie wish her mother could see. She would have loved to see such beauty as this, for one could only stare in awe at the magnificently hand-carved wood with gold trimmings all around. The clock and the angel holding the lamp were the centerpieces of divine artwork. The skylight brilliantly lit up the room as much as if one were outside in the sun.

As they slowly descended the stairs, they stopped now and then to chat with some of the other rich and famous people on board. The Countess of Roths, Mr. Astor, Mr. Andrews, etc. etc. They were all very courteous and polite, except for Astor's wife. The little snot was rather rude to Irene and Marie. But she just shrugged it off as being a mood swing.

Seventeen, married, and pregnant. Marie was lucky she lasted until twenty before being courted away.

Speaking of the courting, Marie spotted her father exchanging small chitchat with an older bald man who walked with a special cane. The cane was different than her mothers, it had a loop at the top for his arm to go through and a handle for his hand to grasp. For him, it was his trouble with walking. Marie had never met the man with the bald head and the kind features before, but her father looked nervous speaking with him.

"Yes, I am often mistaken for the great Senator Kelly," her father explained. It was true, everywhere they went someone mistook him for the famous American Senator.

"Father?"

"Aaaaah," he plastered a smile on his face. "Marie, Irene. I would like you to meet Professor Charles Xavier. He runs a school over in New York."

"Pleasure," both Marie and her mother said at the same time. However, her mother's voice changed quite a bit. Something was going on that Marie didn't know about, and at least her parents did. Something involving this man.

"So, what type of school do you run, Professor Xavier?" Marie asked, curious about this man. Why would her parents be nervous around him? She sensed nothing but warmth and kindness from him. A type of person to be the world's greatest father figure, and compassionate friend.

"A school for gifted people."

"Gifted? How so?"

"People with gifts unlike that of any-"

Robert interrupted him abruptly. "Yes, well, I am very sorry, Professor, but we have an appointment to keep." He bowed and exchanged good-byes, then ushered his family away.

Marie had never been so confused and intrigued over something in a long time. What was it about that man that made her want to know more? And why were her parents afraid of him? He seemed like a very nice man, one that probably ran Help the Poor shelters or something. He just had that air around him.

Her father lead them into the actual dinning room, no one was seated yet. It was stand up and chat with people you hardly know time. She was led to a table with a bunch of people standing around it, one of the men turned and smiled down at her. He was dashing, young, and so very handsome. Like he was made from the finest genetics on earth. His perfect smile should have made her melt into a puddle on the floor, and it did, until she saw his eyes. There was something about his eyes that she didn't like, something that frightened her to her very core.

But he was beautiful, in a manly sort of way. His brown hair trimmed perfectly in a modern style, his face shaven so not a spec of hair was shown, which made him look all the more younger than he seemed. Marie guessed he was in his middle or late twenties, even though he looked far younger. Yet his eyes... an involuntary shudder ran up and down her spine.

Robert smiled at her. "Marie, darling. This is Graydon Creed," he said, gesturing to the man before her.

Somehow, Marie knew that this would turn out to be Creed. If he wasn't ugly, than he was evil. That was it! He was evil, it was in his eyes. Marie always believed the eyes were the windows of the soul, and she had gotten quite good at reading them in people.

But for her family, she plastered on a smile and bowed slightly towards him. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Creed."

Graydon's eyes searched her up and down, devouring her into their black mists. "Please, call me Graydon. I am your fiancé after all."

"Of course... Graydon." Graydon Creed... it even sounded like an evil name now that she had a face to go with it.

"That reminds me, we need to make it more official." Digging into his pocket, Graydon produced a small box which he opened. The most beautiful and expensive looking diamond ring stared back at her. Calling to her... it was a female thing. Graydon took the ring out and placed on her correct finger, over her thin glove. After, he kissed her hand briefly.

"Shall we sit?" he pulled a chair out for her and she elegantly sat her body down on it. A quick glance around confirmed others were just starting to get seated. Graydon sat to the left of her, while her father and mother sat to the right. There were others at their table, yet always a new bunch of people.

This time it was a group of two men and one woman. They all seemed acquainted with each other. Two even looked related with their facial features. Perhaps twins. The boy had white hair, while the girl had an auburn mane. There was a much older man with grey hair and eyes that were wise with age. Maybe they were all related... there were some features that at least the man and boy shared.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Erik Lensherr," the old man began. Marie stared into his eyes and didn't like what she found there either. Pain, suffering, hatred. That man had been through a lot in his time. But that just seemed to make him stronger, even if the intense flame was just starting to burn out. "These are my associates, Pietro and Wanda Maximoff. Twins."

A round of introductions from her side was conducted by her father. She smiled and looked all pretty, rather like what Wanda was doing. She looked to be about as happy to be there as Marie did. In fact, Pietro didn't even look happy to be there. Pushing the white hair out of his eyes, he looked bored to death.

Dinner was ordered and one of the beginning 'meals' was brought. Marie couldn't help but notice two men standing off to one side, their attention always on Marie's table. One was a huge man with long blonde hair and a mean looking face. He had all the appearance and attitude of a bodyguard. The other man was much smaller, short for men's standards, and looked like he was seasick. With the way he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes every time food passed by, that was probably what he was. It gave his skin a pale green tinge to it, even turning his black hair to a very dark green. The two of the men were both clad mainly in black, and both looked like business. Even if the smaller one looked like he would sooner be sick than kick someone's butt.

Mealtime was a time for Marie to half-listen to the boring conversation at the table, not like she ever really participated in it, and look at the world around her. It was the only way she ever really saw anything of it. Just by standing back in the shadows and watching during meals or parties. That was her life, and she hated it. But it was supposed to be proper and right.

Even if it didn't feel like it.

The band played in the background, providing music for when there was silence at the table. Marie looked around, wanting to find that kind man from before. It didn't take long, they were only one table over. He was looking at Marie's table... yet not at her. His gaze was directed at the old man, Lensherr. Looking back at him, she could tell every now and then he would grant side-glances at the bald man. It seemed everyone knew everyone else for reasons unknown to anyone but them, but obvious to everyone else that something was there.

She looked back at the table with Professor Xavier and viewed his company. A gorgeous black woman with white hair... something Marie had never see before. She looked like a Goddess from one of those tribes of another country. Beautiful and elegant and so pure. Next to her was an older couple. A man with red glasses, and a woman with red hair. They were every bit in love, which made Marie stare longingly at them.

She would never know love like that. But at least she knew it truly existed, and it was no longer a figment of her overactive imagination. Her pained eyes closed against the tears that threatened to well and spill over onto her cheek.

When she opened them again, she just wanted to cry even more. Her eyes fixed on another couple there. A young girl and boy. They held hands. Bare hands above the table, staring deeply into each others eyes. Apparently, some of the others were trying to address them. The called out "Robert" and "Jennifer" but the two didn't respond, too lost in each other to care about anything else.

Her eyes diverted again and found themselves staring directly into another pair of hazel eyes. Embarrassed and flustered at being caught, she looked away from those eyes. But feminine curiosity made her glance shyly over again at those eyes.

The man they belonged to didn't look away. He had no shame or fear of being caught staring, unlike her. He sat with his chair positioned more towards her, his arms folded across his chest, and an unlit cigar hanging out of the side of his mouth, chewing ever so slightly on the end. His face was covered with sideburns only seen on Javert wannabe's. His eyes bore into hers, capturing them and holding them as if it were a physical force.

She wanted to look away, yet she didn't. She wanted to go over to him, yet she wanted to stay right there. So many conflicting emotions were pulling her in two different directions. It would be improper for her to go over there. But she wanted to... something about him made her drawn to him. Like that invisible force she always read about in books that binds two people together for all eternity.

The arrival of another part of the meal brought her out of the stare. She could still feel his eyes upon her, and it made her blush. "Marie, dear, are you alright?"

Once again, her mother had defied the laws of physics. "Yes, mother. I guess... I'm just a bit hot... May I be excuse for a few minutes, go outside for some fresh air?"

Her father replied bluntly, "No."

"Oh, come now Robert. She hasn't been allowed up on deck, and perhaps some fresh air will do her good. Go along, dear. Your food will still be here waiting."

Graydon got to his feet and helped his wife-to-be up. "Would you like me to escort you?"

"No, thank you." She quickly walked out before he could persist the option more.

**April 12th, 1912  
****6: 48pm**

There was hardly anyone around. A few crewmembers now and then, but everyone was at dinner. It was hard for her to find the outside deck, she didn't know her way around. But after asking one of the men, she arrived at the Boat Deck. The sun was already halfway done setting, but it was still beautiful. The colors intertwined like in a romance novel, creating a splendor of fiery passion across the sky. The wind cooled her exposed skin, providing the perfect setting.

Reaching at one of the folds of her dress, Marie pulled it back, revealing a hidden pocket just big enough to fit a book in. All of her gowns were tailored like that. She pulled out the well-worn paperback. Often, she would read parts over and over again before continuing on with the next. She could quote some of the paragraphs by heart. They were her only escape in her imprisoned world. Her father hated it, but her mother encouraged it. Always complaining that Marie would simply die of boredom if it weren't for those novels.

A lot of times, when they were alone and nothing was planned, Marie would read the novels to Irene. She enjoyed them as much as her daughter did, but with being blind, she couldn't just read them. And it was an embarrassment to have one of the servants read them aloud to her.

Pulling the delicate piece of lace she used as a bookmark, and separating the pages, Marie began to read, using the sunset as the only light. Once it was gone, she would go back inside. One of her most favorite passions was reading by the sunset, watching as the pages slowly turned the different shades the sky would as the light went down.

Already buried into the midst of deep passion, Marie hadn't really noticed the adult couple walking along near her. She noticed enough to lean against the railing, providing them with enough passage for them to continue their hand-in-hand walk uninterrupted. But they stopped after just passing her, turning slightly as if to watch the sunset.

Stealing a glance at them, the woman was watching the sunset. The man... well, she couldn't see what the man was looking at. The red tinted glasses he wore hid his eyes from the rest of the world. Red tinted... it was so odd, she had never seen that before. She wondered why they were like that, or if the guy was just plain rich'n'weird.

The couple looked at her at the exact same time and smiled. Marie found herself smiling back, even with the deep flame of jealousy burning inside her. She would never smile like that, so pure, so real. It was always forced, always an act. Nothing made her truly smile like a lover would. And nothing ever would.

They moved towards the railing, just next to her. Marie pretended to be engrossed in the book again, but it didn't seem to fool them.

"It's beautiful out here, isn't it?" the woman asked her.

"Yes..."

"I am Jean. Jean Summers. This is my husband, Scott."

With a slight nod of her head, she acknowledged it. "Marie Darkholme."

The lovers exchanged glances, then smiled again at her. It would have been unnerving if it weren't for the fact their smiles were so genuine towards her.

Suddenly, the woman turned her head sharply to one side, just as a man burst through the door. It was the same gruff man who had been staring at her at dinner. The one who really didn't look like he belonged in wealthy clothes. The woman was already moving towards the door before the man even spoke, her husband close behind her.

"Some lady inside is havin' a breakdown or somethin'. X wanted me to get you."

A breakdown? The blood drained from Marie's face and the book fell from her small hands, forgotten as she gasped and a hand covered her mouth. She ran past them, pushing the gruff man aside roughly.

It was very unladylike, but this was an emergency.

Racking her brain, her mind retraced the directions given to her backwards to find her way back to the Grand Staircase and into the Dinning Area. Beauty and elegance were completely forgotten as she raced down the stairs, having to greatly use the railing else she'd fall or trip over her dress that she didn't even try to keep out of her way.

Sure enough, the person having a breakdown was her mother. It happened, not frequently, but when it did it was a frightening experience for everyone that knew her. The ones that didn't know her simply pinned on delusional ramblings from a person that should be a mental patient. But people that knew her and knew of her breakdowns knew far better than that.

"We're going to sink! The ship's going to sink! Oh God! So many deaths! So much chaos! We're going to sink!" her mother was in the middle of a tirade, concerned and intrigued people gathered around her, trying to calm her down. Except her father. Her father always tried to seemingly make things worse.

But Marie knew, he had to do it. For every time her mother had a breakdown and spewed out seemingly random things... those random things always came true. She predicted the deaths of people they knew, she predicted the events of the next day. She predicted things that wouldn't even happen in their own lifetime.

The most absurd one she heard was when she was young. The first time Marie could remember her mother having a breakdown. Something about a great battle on the Statue of Liberty. A powerful machine. A great sacrifice. And she saw Marie there... a young Marie. But it was set after the turn of the millennium, so it couldn't be possible. It had frightened her, because she didn't understand at the time. She still didn't understand and it still kept her awake at night after her mother would have a breakdown.

"We're going to sink! We're going to sink!" Irene just kept repeating the same phrase over and over again. It was the end of the breakdown. She would continue to repeat it for a few minutes before finally passing out, as always happened.

But the professor, with the help of some of the people at his table, helped to lay her down, and for him to sit on the floor next to her. He put his hands to either side of her head and whispered comforting words to hers. Words that soothed her and brought her back to the present. The ragged breathing became more rhythmic as her mother slowly regained herself.

As soon as she was of a sane mind, Robert took her and proceeded to carry her to their quarters. He called for Marie to follow, and she obeyed silently as the room returned to normal. The band began to play again, people began to converse again and returned to eating. The excitement was over, and no doubt by the end of the voyage almost everyone would have forgotten about this incident.

Until it happened, which probably wouldn't happen for many years.

Except there was always a chance that this voyage was the one her mother predicted.


	2. April 13th, 1912 -- Morning

**April 13th, 1912  
****1:15am**

There wasn't a single cloud up in the sky, causing the stars to shine brightly down upon the large vessel, and the man waiting at the stern of the ship. A small flame appeared close to the man's face as he lit a pipe and slowly dragged the poison into his system.

Footsteps sounding behind him cause the man to turn around. Robert Darkholme's smiling face greeted him as he held up a cigarette, wanting it to be lit by the still open flame of the lighter. He moved it over to the tip of the wrapped plant and lit it up.

"We must accelerate our plans, if your friend's mental ramblings always come true," the man who had been waiting said as he turned to look out at the water. "Such a pity... So much metal put into a ship like this, it would pain me to see it at the bottom of the ocean."

When he looked back at his friend, he was met with the form of a very blue and very scaly woman with hair the color of dark fire. If any crewmember should look out at the bow of the ship, they would be unable to see her, her skin blended so perfectly with the darkness of night, and her hair wasn't bright enough. "Irene's always right. In a way, it might prove better. No doubt his Will has already been remade with Marie in mind. They would just think he went down with the ship, having already given Marie all the information to access his accounts and safes."

"If she is right about the girl."

"I already told you she is always right. She predicted Marie's mutation, and it will happen. Just not exactly as we expected. Marie will do anything her parents ask her to, even marry that fool. Even go to that fool in a couple nights. The night of the sinking. He will be unable to resist. So long as you can keep your friend and his minions from ruining everything." Her yellow eyes grew brighter with contempt for the man called Xavier.

"Leave him to me. And my men will deal with his. Our only real problem may be his new minion. I saw him staring at the girl during dinner -- and she stared back. You have to keep her curiosity at bay, Raven."

"Don't worry, I will. Curiosity is to be expected in a girl her age. However, she will not defy me or her 'mother'."

The pain in her voice when she called Irene Marie's mother was evident, even to Erik. Even if Marie was not truly her child, she believed it. It was ironic, in fact, that Raven was using a child she acted like her daughter to get at her real son. But Graydon was going to expose mutants to the world in America, list off the ones he knew of, if only by nickname. Of course, they were on that list. So it was decided that Graydon and the list had to be destroyed.

Erik rested a hand on Raven's shoulder. "It is for the best, Raven. This must be done. You know he would kill you himself if he knew."

Her yellow eyes cast downwards to the deck. "I know..."

He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You should best be on your way. Chances are this will be a rough night for your family."

With a nod, Raven's body shifted before his eyes into that of Robert Darkholme. Who bore a striking resemblance to that of Senator Kelly simply because that was the template Raven had used to create Marie's father. Disguised as the famous man, Raven began the walk back to her quarters where there was no doubt that Marie at least was still up.

As soon as she had gone, two forms appeared from deep within the shadows. "Victor... Mortimer..." Erik addressed them without even turning around to see them. He didn't need to, Victor's heavy breathing alerted him to that presence, and he could trust Mortimer unlike any other person in the world to always do as told. "I need for you to pay a visit to Xavier's new comrade later today. Give him a 'friendly' greeting, hm?"

A growl was his only response from Victor, and a happy growl at that. Victor was happy so long as it involved bloodshed and causing other people pain. Erik could just imagine the curt nod he got from Mortimer, silent as always. Silent and deadly, that was the way Mortimer worked. Two extremely different personalities, but together they worked great. So long as they weren't trying to kill each other, which had happened once or twice in the past.

Charles may want to welcome an era where humans know of and accept mutants as normal beings, yearning to no longer have to hide in the dark or behind an invisible mask of normality. But Erik knew better. He knew humans would never accept them. After all, they feared what they didn't understand. And mutants were something they wouldn't be able to begin to comprehend. They would be hunted like animals and treated even worse. That was the future Erik could see upon them being exposed to the horrid elements of human hatred.

"If you prick us, do we not bleed? As we bleed, is our blood not red? If you beat us down, do we not fight back?" the words tumbled from his mouth as a hushed murmur. His eyes gazed up at the stars, watching them blur together into one massive light as his eyes clouded over. "Does time not eventually catch up with us as we die?"

Another one of his coughing fits violated his entire body, shaking it to the point that he thought he might collapse. He didn't need a doctor to tell him he was dying, it was clear to him. It took a great deal control to keep it from everyone else, which probably made things far worse for when he was alone and didn't need to hide it under a calm smile and an intent gaze. Erik feared he would not make it off this ship. Maybe it was for the best. Charles was there anyway. He could spend his time plotting the fate of Graydon Creed and reconciling with his age-old friend at the same time.

There was no doubt in his mind that Charles already knew of Erik's terminal condition, whatever it was. The look he had one his face when Erik had lost control and had a coughing fit while Irene was having a breakdown proved it.

He shouldn't dwell too much on it, it wasn't healthy for his mind. Besides, he wasn't even remotely sure of when he would die, he could live years for all he knew. But those years would be in painful misery, trying to help his brothers.

Sticking the pipe back in his mouth and taking in another breath, he headed back to his cabin. It was getting just too damn cold out.

**April 13th, 1912  
****10:06am**

A low growl escaped his throat at the look the redhead gave him. A look of amusement at seeing Logan standing there with a book in hand. A book. He couldn't remember ever having actually touched one, let alone read the damn thing.

He'd managed to hide the fact he was reading it from Scott, but try to hide something like that from a telepath. "You know, you should return that," she told him.

Logan mumbled something that somewhat sounded like an agreement before returning to the pages. It was a romance novel, no doubts there. But it also had action, adventure, and beheadings. It was a good book so long as he skipped past the really mushy parts. At least it wasn't one of Jean's steamy novels she liked to read on occasion.

Yet the damn book wouldn't let him skip the mushy parts. He found quickly that if he did, he'd lose some of the storyline. So the mushy parts had to be read, or at least skimmed through for key elements of the story. It added even mystery to the damn thing. Probably what kept him so interested.

He cursed the book. He cursed the author. He even cursed the girl who grabbed his attention at dinner for reasons completely unknown to him. She was just a girl, no different from any other rich girl he had seen. But there was something there, something between them. Jean even knew it too. Ever since dinner she'd been slowly prodding him to go return the book and talk to her. Find out her name, since Xavier refused to tell him, saying it was something he had to find out for himself.

The fucking telepaths were out to destroy him.

And so was this goddamned book.

Every animal instinct was screaming at him to just return the book, just give it up. But fear stopped him. Fear and intrigue. Intrigue in the book, fear of actually meeting this girl. He glanced over at the redhead. "You ever read this?" he asked, holding up the book so she could see the title.

"_The Scarlet Pimpernel_?" She shook her head. "No, I've never even heard of it."

Without warning, he slammed the book shut. "That's it. I'm returning this piece of shit."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Jean's mouth. "Is it a piece of shit because you actually enjoyed reading what you did?"

"Damn right it is." Reaching for the coat that went with his highly uncomfortable suit, Logan put it on. "How can men wear these things?"

"You should try wearing a corset and a dress."

An irritated moan escaped his lips. If he didn't move fast, he'd be drawn into another Battle of the Sexes with Jean. What Logan hated most about those battles were that she almost always won. Scott was smart enough to always agree with his wife. But Logan wasn't married to her, and he had only known her for around six months.

If you had told Logan seven months ago that he would be working for some rich mutant and wearing uncomfortable yet expensive clothes while traveling on the biggest ship in the world. He would have laughed. Well, more like he would have looked at you as if you had just grown another head, then returned to whatever he was doing without further acknowledging your presence.

Their meeting had been simple enough. Took place in a seedy bar in Canada the young couple had somehow stumbled into. They asked for directions just at the moment an all-out brawl erupted. Logan didn't know how it had started-- Well, okay, he knew _exactly_ how it had started, because he was the one that threw the first punch. But he ended up unknowingly saving the couple's lives. Afterwards, they sought him out to an even seedier place that housed penniless travelers and homeless people in return for chores.

It was then and there that the business proposition was made. At the time, anything seemed better than what he was doing, so he took it up. Plus he found it a great sport to torment Scott. Downside was that he was starting to loosen up and getting far better at comebacks.

"You just going to stand there, fuming? Or are you going to finally return the book?"

Another growl emerged as he took the book in his hands and left the cabin. Logan didn't like speaking much. He could say just as much as full sentences by simply growling a certain way. His employers were quick to learn the basic Logan'ese. Pretty soon he would have to start teaching them the harder stuff, like grunts. Then the challenge: Glares.

Logan mused and fumed and then paused in his tracks after a few minutes of roaming. Realization dawned on him that he had no idea where the girl's quarters were, or her name to ask where they are. "Shit..." he mumbled under his breath, mentally kicking himself for being so stupid as to not thinking of this dilemma before he set out. He might have been able to get the room number from Jean or the Professor. But now his pride wouldn't let him go back and ask.

So Logan used the only choice he had. He was his own fucking Hound dog and used the book to capture the vaguely familiar scent of the girl in order to track her down to her room. It took longer than had he asked, but he kept his pride intact.

Once he arrived at the door, he found himself stalling. For the first time in his life, he actually thought about making a good first impression. Then he chided himself. His first impression to this girl would be of a weird guy staring at her from another table. So in the end, it didn't matter that much.

Tentatively, he knocked on the door and waited for a response. Checking his watch, he hoped that they weren't still asleep. No doubt they would have had a rough night after that woman's episode at dinner. That sort of thing even kept the people he worked for up most of the night, quietly discussing it among other things. Logan really didn't know what, he'd been too engrossed in the book.

Now that he thought about, he never did find out who the Scarlet Pimpernel was. But he would bet the twenty bucks in his pocket that it was that Ffoulkes guy.

The door opening brought his attention back to present matters. It only opened a crack and an eye peeked out at him. "Can I help you?" the maid asked in a soft voice.

"Yeah..." Logan paused briefly to think on how to word it right so he might be able to speak to the girl who owned the book. "A young lady dropped this book last night, and I came to return it to her."

"Kitty? Who is it?"

Curiosity overcame Logan as he tried to see the face that belong to the voice that spoke. Even though he knew it was the girl, he wanted to see her again.

"It is a man returning a book, Miss."

The door opened all the way as the young lady came up to see him. Her chocolate eyes got bigger as she saw him and her body tensed from surprise and nervousness. "You have my book?" she asked him kindly, moving away and gesturing for him to enter.

With a nod Logan did as directed and strode into the small living room of sorts. Two sets of couches faced each other with decorative flowers, vases, lamps, and paintings were chosen to go perfectly with the coloring of the room itself. It invited a warm, soft atmosphere to it. Cheerful, yet not overwhelming.

"I am so thankful, Mister..."

"Logan."

"Mister Logan."

His trademark half-smile that he rarely ever used crept onto his face. "Just Logan. I'm not the formal type."

"Well, thank you again. I thought for certain that I had lost my favorite book and would have to wait until we reached America to buy a new one." She clenched the book in question that was handed to her tightly against her bodice.

"Maybe you should anyways. That novel looks to have seen better days."

A smile lit up on her face as a soft giggle escaped her perfectly shaped and colored lips. Logan could tell that she had yet to don any makeup, which made her look so real and pure. Even though her skin looked as if it was in desperate need of more sun.

As they stood there in a comfortable silence, they examined each other at the same time. She was dressed in a lightweight gown for the earlier day, possibly the same dress she would wear for lunch. It was white with rose trimmings and snuggled so perfectly on her petite form. Her auburn hair was done up delicately yet left the white streak to hang freely across her face. He was wearing more casual clothes than the night before. All black pants with a matching dress shirt and a dark grey coat, yet still dressed up enough to be accepted in the First Class area of the ship. But the unruly hair and sideburns he had were extreme and really didn't fit in with the upper class.

"So, you never told me your name, darlin'."

A faint tinge of red rose to her cheeks at the term he addressed her or embarrassment, or both. "Ah'm sorry. Marie Darkholme."

"'Ah'm'?" he repeated. Marie hadn't had an accent a moment ago.

"Yah... Ah'm from tha' Southern part of America... sometimes get an accent."

His half-smile broke out more into a grin the more she blushed. "What sets it off?"

"Well..." She got even redder and turned her face away shyly to try and hide it. She let the sentence linger in the air, hoping he didn't press her further to answer it.

As much as he'd like to, he figured he'd let her go that time for it. "Well, Miss Marie. I returned your book and got your name. It would be my pleasure to see you again." Good God... that was the most he'd ever been proper. And it wasn't stopping there. Gently, he pulled away one of her gloved hands from her novel to kiss the back of it. His lips lingering perhaps a bit longer than they should have.

Her breath hitched at the pleasant, yet small contact, even through the gloves. "Will..." her voice betrayed her and she was forced to swallow and try again. "Will you be there for lunch?"

"I wasn't planning on it. But if you'll be there, I will too."

That wonderful smile of hers that lit up her whole face and livened up her soul appeared again. They stood like that for who knows how long, staring at each other while he absentmindedly rubbed her hand with his thumb.

Logan let go of her hand and started to move away. Were it not for his keen sense of hearing, he wouldn't have heard the small whimper that came from Marie as he did. "I'll see you then," he told her as he left the room. Even though they both didn't want to separate, it was for her own good at least. Some of the thoughts straying into his head were becoming too tempting to resist.

**April 13th, 1912  
****12:43pm**

A sigh escaped her for the fifth time in the last minute. He wasn't going to come. Lunch had pretty much come and gone, so now it was back to the mindless chatter of her wedding that she paid no attention to. Although she should, it was her wedding after all, but her thoughts were elsewhere. They were on a certain man who had promised to show and then broken that promise.

"Marie?" The light touch on her gloved hand made her jump and gasp. Once her heart settled she realized it was just Graydon, concerned over her lack of attention. "Are you alright, my dear?"

"O-of course. I'm fine. I'm just... a bit tired, that's all. Forgive me," she stuttered out, hoping it was a good enough an excuse for him. Thankfully, it was, and he repeated the question to her to which she gave an answer. Logan wasn't going to show, and that was final. What made her puzzled was why she cared so much, why she had been looking forward to it as she had. She didn't know him, he didn't know her, why should she care at all?

Fingering the book hidden within the folds of her dress, she let her mind wander yet again. Back to the brief time they had spent in the living room of her quarters. He seemed so nice, so sincere. And safe... It was an odd thing to think about someone, but he gave her a sense of security that no one else had. But most of all, he was real. His gestures, his speech, the way he looked at her, it was all real. It wasn't fake like what she was used to. And that made her want to get to know him, to be real around him.

That wasn't very likely if he didn't show his ass when he said he would. Marie looked over at the table he should have been sitting at. The same people were there, with the exception of two newcomers. One was a girl with a truly outrageous hairstyle. Different shades of different colors and bright neon streaks carefully braided. That was a girl with guts. A man sat next to her, who wore sunglasses and a trenchcoat, even at the table! That was absurd and unheard of. Marie got the feeling she had seen him before... As she mused over it, it came to her. The man was a waiter at the Café Parisian on the ship.

As lunch was nearing the end, Marie excused herself to get some fresh air once again. Worry had started to replace the hatred she felt towards Logan at that moment. Worry something had happened to him. Maybe it was her romance novel-riddled brain that made her think he was in any sort of trouble. Truth was, he probably just ditched going without a second thought.

In the back of her mind, Marie knew that wasn't true. Something was wrong. It was like a nagging feeling that she couldn't erase or push back. Walking faster than normal, Marie went to her quarters to see if he was there or left a note. The maid was certain that he hadn't been there since returning the book prior, and no notes had been delivered.

Quietly returning to the dining area, she slipped over to his friends. They greeted her with a warm, kind smile. Professor Xavier with the kindest of all. "Ah, Marie. What can we do for you?"

Suddenly, Marie realized she didn't know quite how to put it. Last thing she wanted was more gossip concerning her family floating around the ship. "There was a man with you... With sideburns... He returned a book to me earlier and I wish to thank him for it. Do you know where he is?"

Xavier's eyes clouded over as if he was in deep thought for a moment before returning their focus on Marie. "I believe he is down below... in part of the Scotland Road..." his voice spoke barely above a whisper, and Marie was uncertain whether he had truly meant for her to hear it.

Nevertheless, she thanked him kindly and walked away at a fast pace. Something in her yearning to run. A deep pain filled her chest as she thought more about what could be wrong. She tried to think happy thoughts, to chide herself for letting her mind get carried away. The feeling stayed no matter what she did.

After asking for directions, Marie ended up in the Scotland Road, a length of corridors that ran the ship front to back to allow crewmembers easier passage, and ran around them looking for Logan. "Logan!" she cried out, desperate to find him as soon as possible if just to ease the pain she was feeling. It was uncalled for, unknown. Only once had she felt it before and it was when she couldn't find Irene. During one of her breakdowns, her mother had wandered off into the woods surrounding their home. It took Marie two hours to find her mother again and bring her home.

Right before she reached one of the hatches, it opened and Logan stepped out. "Logan!" she cried and almost ran to him to hug him fiercely. But the proper part of her kept her back, refusing to let her do that. Her eyes took him in. He was wearing the exact same clothes as before, and didn't appear to be injured in any way.

"Marie? What are you doing here?" he asked gruffly, narrowing his eyes at her.

"You didn't come for lunch... I got a bit worried..."

Logan laughed and Marie cringed. It wasn't a pleasant laugh. In fact, his whole demeanor had changed drastically from before. "Why would I have gone to lunch?"

"Because you told me you would..."

"Listen, kid. All I did was return your damn book. I wasn't lookin' for anything else. Well, maybe a good fuck, but I didn't think I'd get that far with you."

"What?" Marie couldn't believe this. This wasn't Logan... this wasn't the Logan she had met almost two hours ago.

"Unless I was wrong..." His voice was low and menacing as he stalked towards Marie. Out of uncertainty, she stepped back until she was pressed against another door.

The look in his eyes and the expression on his face made her fear for her life. This wasn't Logan. She just knew it couldn't be Logan. The eyes were the windows to the soul, and when she looked in Logan's eyes before, none of what she saw now were there. It's like he was a completely different person.

He didn't stop coming until his body was pressed against hers. Eyes wide with fear and confusion, she just stared at him and breathed out ragged breaths. Using the scarf around her neck, he pulled it up to trace a finger against her cheek, as if he was afraid to touch her skin. Maybe what her parents had said was right, about how much a girl must keep herself pure for her future husband.

"I think I was wrong..." he mused with a wicked grin, his voice a whisper and a faint breath upon her face.

"Logan--" her southern drawl was back in full force from the stress of the situation. She didn't get to finish what she was going to say before the hairy man had pulled the scarf over her lips and kissed her deeply as his hands rested on her hips so he could buck his harshly into hers. Marie gasped and her eyes widened at the sensation she had never felt before. It felt good in a way, but mostly it felt wrong. In her dreams something like this would be sweet and gentle and with the man that she loved. This wasn't any of those things.

Anger fueled into her system as Logan continued to assault her with as much gentleness as a bear. Doing the only thing she could think of, she took off one of her gloves and slashed at his face, desperate to get this man away from her. Logan cried out in pain and slammed her against the bulkhead. "You bitch!" he yelled as one hand covered the side of his face that she had scratched. "You'll get what's coming to you," the man she thought she knew declared before storming out of the passageway.

Marie stood there a moment, her head buzzed from the impact with the bulkhead. Trembling fingers tried to make their way back into the glove she had discarded. Her body leaned against the wall, trembling and frightened as she took in short, shallow breaths. Her eyes stung with tears that refused to fall. The smell of blood came to her senses when she wiped the sweat off her brow. She must have blood on her hand from scratching Logan. Yes, she did. It was seeping through the glove.

The door that Logan had come through burst open again, causing poor Marie to jump and let out a shriek against her constricting vocal cords. Yet what she saw before her made her eyes widen briefly before all thought became a blank, as did the world around her once her body hit the deck.


	3. April 13th, 1912 -- Afternoon

**April 13th, 1912  
****3: 17pm**

Three and a half hours... Three and a half fucking hours of Marie Darkholme lying in Jean and Scott's bed, waiting for her to wake up. Logan didn't know someone could faint and stay out that long. Then again, if anyone lost consciousness around him, it usually was because he knocked them out.

Three and a half hours to also think about what had happened down at the Scotland Road.

After receiving a note that was slipped under his door, he had gone there in search of Marie. The perpetrators claimed to have taken her and would be willing to make an exchange. Being the noble little bastard that he had become, Logan was right and ready to comply. Things changed as soon as he got down there.

"Logan, let me look at that arm," Jean pleaded for the... he'd lost count of how many times she had asked him.

"Take care of her first," was the same reply that he had given from the beginning. Sure, he had delayed any treatment of his arm for hours that could have been taken from Marie to help him. There wasn't anything to do but wait until the girl woke up. But at least his head had stopped throbbing.

"Logan, it's obviously broken. It needs to be set before it can heal, that's why it hasn't already."

Dammit... Jean had a way of being persistent. Too bloody persistent as she started examining his arm without his consent. Logan hissed in pain as she did, it still hurt to high hell.

"Scott, I need you to hold him still."

Her husband immediately complied as she handed over something hard for him to bite onto. Pride was going to overtake his willingness to put it in his mouth, but she just shoved it in there as soon as he opened it and set his arm with a sickening twist, snap, and sound of more tissue tearing as the bone was placed back against the rest of it. Afterwards, Logan silently thanked Jean for the thing in his mouth, otherwise he might have woken Marie up by his scream.

Memories flooded back to him. Once he opened the door for the Scotland Road, he was greeted in a flash by the door being roughly slammed into his face, knocking him back. From there, two guys had jumped him. One of them he knew, the other he didn't.

Strangest thing was, the one he didn't know, who was short and had a greenish tinge to his skin, held binoculars in his hand. At times he would use them as if they were glasses. Victor and the new guy beat the shit out of him pretty bad. After he returned to the land of the conscious, he moved to leave when he burst in on Marie. Who then fainted.

It didn't make any sense. What was she doing there? The two bastards obviously didn't kidnap her, but then why was she there. He'd been given a lot of time to mull it over, but he still wasn't anywhere near to finding an answer.

A shuffle of fabrics and a moan brought his attention to the awakening Marie. She looked so peaceful then... Even while she'd been sleeping, her face was scrunched in concentration or something. One chocolate eye opened, then the other. Jean sat next to her and smiled kindly at her, in case she got startled when she woke.

"Wha... Ah..." Her beautiful sleepy eyes grew wider and she tried to bolt herself into an upright position. However an unknown force restrained her so she couldn't. Logan knew that unknown force was Jean's powers, but Marie wouldn't know that.

Those eyes of hers glanced wildly around the room, taking everything in. When her eyes fell upon Logan's he thought she would pass out again. "H-how... Ah... you..."

"What is it?" He moved closer. Marie was in too much shock to react in fear to him getting beside Jean.

"I hurt ya'... You... Ya' hurt me... then Ah... Ah scratched yer face... an..."

Aw, fuck! He had to move away. The claws threatened to pop out and were desperate to meet with flesh. Xavier hadn't been too sure, but now there was proof. The shapeshifter he'd been told about was on the ship, and fucking around with Marie, no less.

Jean knew that for the good of the mission, she had to try and convince Marie that that wasn't Logan. "That wasn't Logan. As you can see, he doesn't have any scratch marks, just a wounded arm. Who you saw... was someone else..." This wasn't going to be easy, the confusion was etched clearly on the girl's young face. "Can you tell me exactly what happened?"

Marie debated with herself. She still trusted these people, for some unknown reason. And if what they were saying was true -- however mundane it sounded -- then that would explain why she felt safe being around Logan again even after he attacked her. "I went looking for him... When I met him he... he..." the words couldn't come as emotions overtook her. Soft sobs riddled her body and tears fell from her eyes.

Logan really wanted that bitch to pay for what she'd done to this girl. Injured arm, or no, she was going to greatly regret the day she messed with someone Logan cared about. That was a first... someone he cared about. Hell, he wasn't even sure if he cared about his employers. Certainly not compared to what he felt for this girl he'd met only once before and didn't know.

Once Marie had begun to stop crying, Jean moved to sit beside her in the bed. "It's okay... just, relax... calm your mind... I'm not going to hurt you." Careful not to touch her skin, Jean put one hand on either side of the girl's head and took a deep breath after closing her eyes. Really, the Prof' should be the one to do this, but he was currently trying to find someone else on the big ship.

Minutes passed before Jean broke the connection. She sat perfectly straight as she contemplated the information she had received.

"If it wasn't Logan... who was it?" Marie asked, breaking Jean out of her thoughts.

"His... twin. Identical twin. His... evil identical twin." The truth wasn't going to work in any way on this girl, so a lie had to be made in its place.

"Oh..." the girl seemed content with that, albeit surprised at the information. "Didn't know..."

Logan was still plotting the shapeshifter's death when Jean addressed him. "Logan, why don't you stay with Marie. Get her whatever she wants, we'll be right back." Gracefully, Jean got up and took her husband's arm, leading him out of their room and over to wherever the Prof' was.

Neither of them spoke for a good while. Just remained in complete silence. Logan could pick up the soft spoken words of the trio in another room, someone walking outside in the hall, the ships engines humming. That was the worst. He had enough trouble sleeping at night without his sensitive hearing picking up on the sound of the engines and pounded into his brain the entire night. That's one reason why he'd taken to sleeping more during the day, with more noise to make his hearing not know what to concentrate on, so it didn't pick out anything.

As much as Logan felt comfortable around silence, this wasn't one of those times, and he felt partially responsible for what happened. "I'm sorry about what he did..."

"It wasn't yer fault..." she said softly, her accent just beginning to fade a bit. She curled up some, bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She looked so much younger like that, so much more vulnerable.

"You need anything? Food? Drink? Me to find the bastard and beat the shit outta him?"

Ah, good. That brought a slight smile to her face. "I dunno about the last one, but the first two sound good."

A tray was wheeled over to her and the cover taken off of it. Different types of small sandwiches, fruit, and drinks filled enough of it to feed five people. Five people with an appetite as big as Logan's, which was currently making itself known at the sight and smell of the food.

Ignoring good manners for once, mainly because Logan wasn't the most well mannered person in the world, Marie heartily dug into the meal. At lunch, she had been so busy waiting for him that she'd barely touched her meal. Remembering lunch again brought up a question. "Why didn't you come to lunch?"

The hurt look in her eyes when she asked plummeted Logan's guilt into a full-blown trip. "It's complicated... I... I received a note and had something that I thought was a matter of life or death to deal with."

"Such as...?"

Dammit. Her eyes were so big and that food looked so good... and... Hell, there was enough there. He swiped one of the small sandwiches and scarfed it down before even thinking about answering her. To tell the truth... or to not tell the truth... that was the question... "Well, darlin'..."

Those cheeks of hers got that pretty pink color they do when she blushed again. "Yeah?"

Truth. "A couple of jackasses slipped a note under my door, saying that they had you and were willing to let you go for an exchange. It was all a load of bullshit and they jumped me down there."

Marie stared up in wide-eyed fascination for many reasons. One: She hated swearing. Really hated swearing, and hated people who did it excessively. But for some reason she didn't mind it with this guy. Two: He was gonna give himself up for her? That romance novel-riddled brain of hers started to work overtime again. It was a really romantic thing... something she didn't know existed.

"They hurt you..." she said, moving from her previous position to look at his arm.

"It's not bad, it'll heal..." Far faster than anyone else, was left unsaid.

"Let me see."

"No, it's alright, darlin'."

"Please?"

God dammit... He didn't know those eyes could get bigger. Apparently they could when she was giving the puppy dog look. Sighing reluctantly, he let her look at his injured arm. Which really looked worse than it felt. In a couple more hours, it would be completely healed as if nothing had happened. That would puzzle her, and that he couldn't come up with some excuse for.

Pain filled her eyes when she looked at it. Pain for what he had gone through for her. No doubt there were many other injuries that he was hiding. As much as she wanted to, she didn't ask what those were. The knowledge that someone was still willing to do something like that for her was new to her brain and her thoughts. Why did he do it anyways? He owed her nothing. In fact, she owed him for rescuing her book.

"Why did you do it?"

It was obvious by the way she said it, so softly, and with the expression of deep pondering on her face that she hadn't meant to say it out loud, and probably didn't realize she had. So Logan felt at ease not answering her.

But he'd guessed wrong when she looked up into his hazel eyes and asked it again, louder this time.

For the briefest of moments, he couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe, even. Her eyes held him so tightly in his place. There was so much hidden behind them. Pain, suffering, much like what she saw in his own. But there were other things in hers, too. Innocence, trust, and still one more thing he couldn't place. Those chocolate colored eyes felt like home to him. It was weird, and not just a little freaking him out. "I... I don't know..." he answered truthfully yet again.

Really, he didn't know. There was all this shit going on inside him that involved this girl, he wouldn't even be sure he could tell you that his name was Logan.

God... she just moved closer. He could feel her, smell her... Fuck, he thought he can even taste her, she was so close. And her licking her lips like that when they were just mere inches from his own was not helping matters at all. Nor was the fact that each others lips were all either of them were looking at.

Instincts kicked in and he moved forward, eyes never leaving her lips... full, red, inviting lips that would taste so sweet once he got just a little bit closer...

But once the door opened they both jerked their heads away and Marie fell back onto the bed, as if she'd been laying there the whole time. Hopefully her flushed face would cool down before someone noticed, nor would they noticed Logan's agitated clenching and unclenching of his fists.

Pansy-assed Scott stood in the doorway, oblivious to what had been occurring, or at least choosing to be. "Jean and the Professor need to speak with you, Logan. I can stay here with Marie."

"No offense, Scooter, but I'd rather stay."

_>Logan, it is important.>_

A deep growl resonated throughout the room at the Professor using his abilities to once again con Logan into doing what he wanted. Because Logan knew that if he contacted you like that, it was important. "I'll be back soon, Marie."

She nodded her head, auburn hair with the white streaks bouncing slightly with the movement. But Logan just couldn't resist running a finger down along one of the streaks and giving her a lopsided grin before turning his back and exiting the room.

Scooter might be a stick in the mud, but he could hold his own in a fight. Logan had seen that for himself when they'd first met.

"So, Chuck, what's so important?" he asked once he entered the room where Xavier and Jean were seated.

In normal custom, Xavier asked, "Logan, would you care to sit?" and in normal custom, Logan refused with a grunt and a shake of his head. It was some ritual they just couldn't break, but neither seemed very annoyed by. "There are things you need to know. I am well away of what is going on between you and Marie, and I am in no way against it. In fact, I would much rather you two continue it."

"Good thing one of us knows what's goin' on, 'cuz I sure as hell don't."

Xavier smiled. "You will, Logan. You will. I know that Erik has plans for her, but I've still yet to determine exactly what they are. From what Jean has told me, there are other things. When your double assaulted Marie, he never touched her skin to skin. That, along with the fact that her parents never let her touch another human being arouses some interesting questions."

"She a mutant? It would explain the hair..."

"Yes, it would. And the no-skin deal," Jean mused, already in thought from what was said. "Until we are certain of this, Logan. It might be wise not to touch her skin to skin."

"But then we'd know what would happen. And who better to test it out than me?"

"No, Logan," Xavier said firmly. "It could kill you, healing or no. And that would devastate Marie. She has grown to care for you a great deal within a short amount of time, just as you have."

"This shapeshifter... Marie said that she injured her. Would she be able to hide that?"

Xavier thought a moment. "No, she would not. So whoever has an injured face, most likely is the shapeshifter."

"So I'll go out and look for the bastard." Logan turned to exit, but Jean's voice stopped him.

"Logan, we feel it best if you stay around Marie. Since she is wanted for some reason by Erik, she'll need protection."

As much as he wanted to gut the bastard, being 'forced' to stay by Marie wasn't such a bad thing in his book. With a different grunt and a nod, he agreed.

**April 13th, 1912  
****4: 56pm**

"What happened to you?"

"The girl has more spunk than I thought," Robert said with a hiss of pain as he treated his face using the reflection of glossy wall below decks.

"Will she put two and two together?"

Robert laughed despite himself. It wasn't a good thing to do, for it might piss off his leader, and it stung bad. "Not a chance. She's into romance novels, not science fiction. If she was, then we could be worried. A simple excuse, and she'll eat it up."

The two people moved into another room, the previous one becoming intolerably smoky as Erik puffed away. "Good... The only problem now is that we can't seem to find her."

"She'll return to her quarters before dinner. No doubt she's still upset over what her new interest did to her," he said with an evil flash of yellow in his eyes.

As Erik chuckled it turned into another one of his coughing fits. Exasperated, he quenched the lit cigarette out against a lining of pipes above his head, leaving a round burnt mark on the otherwise white pipe. "Speaking of which..." he said as two familiar people entered the room with them. "How did he fair?"

Mortimer spoke, as usual. "He fought well. But we managed. Victor bashed the guy's head in. It's unlikely even his healing could survive that."

"Mortimer, where did you get those?" Robert asked, inquiring about the binoculars he held.

"Got 'em after Vic' broke my glasses. They work good enough when I need 'em."

With a brief pause, Erik removed his pocket watch and glanced at the time. "Only a couple hours until dinner. Victor, Mortimer, you should go back to second class for this meal. Don't want Charles peeking into your heads."

Quietly they left just as they had come. Once again leaving Erik and Robert alone. "I am counting on you, Raven, to deliver the girl as needed. Don't disappoint me."

"I won't. For the good of our people, I mustn't fail. And I won't."

"You never fail, Raven."

"I know," he said with a smile. Tipping his hat in good manners, Robert left Erik alone to ponder more about the future and what it held for him.

What he pondered wasn't promising for himself, but promising for his brothers. For his cause. If the ship did indeed sink as Raven's friend so... tentatively informed them, perhaps he would go down as a martyr to his cause, or some poetic way as that. He would become immortalized by his followers, spoken only with the highest regards. It was a small thing to ask for in return for his last great accomplishment.

But there were still a few things he had do to before he died.


	4. April 13th, 1912 -- Night

**April 13th, 1912  
****6: 15pm**

Logan watched calmly as Marie, Jennifer, and Amy went on about girl things, ignoring him completely. Not like he'd want to be included in their conversation anyways.

"You're kidding! Remy took you below to a third class party?" The one with the short bright red hair, Jennifer squealed.

"It's true. And it was fun! We danced and drank beer until we couldn't see straight. I had to get us back to our room. I should take you two down there tonight. They don't seem to mind the mingling of the classes," said the one with the sunglasses and the multicolored hair.

"Oh, I don't believe that I--"

"Come on, Marie, it'll be fun! Who has to know that's what you're doing anyway?" asked Jenn.

"Well... alright... Maybe... If I'm not grounded. Oh, I've been gone so long..."

Amy laughed. "Logan'll help us with sneaking you out. And I don't think you'd complain judging by the way you're blushing to a lobster red."

Marie glanced at a clock in the room and let out a light gasp. "Oh, no! I should be back by now to change... I am so grounded. Not that I wasn't before, but now I'll be under strict grounding. Jennifer, Amy, I thank you both."

Having already changed for supper, Logan was ready to escort Marie to her quarters and wait for her to change. Even though Marie walked fast, Logan just had to keep up with longer strides.

With a small smile, Marie disappeared behind the door to her quarters, closing it behind her.

"Marie! Where in God's name have you been!" Surprise, surprise, her mother knew it was her. "I've had people searching for you everywhere!" Irene held her arms out and Marie obliged by hugging her mother.

"I'm fine, Mother. I took a walk, got lost... then... I kind of fell asleep. I'm sorry." It would be far easier to tell a lie than the truth. What would the truth do besides add more fear to her paranoid parents?

"Please, do not frighten us like that again. Your father is still out looking for you. He should return shortly, and we should be ready for him. Go on, dearie, and get changed," her mother told her after placing a kiss on her daughter's cheek. "I love you, darling."

"I love you too, Mother. And I really am sorry about what happened." It wasn't her place to go off searching for some stranger that she should just forget. Not like anything that Marie wanted could possibly happen. She was engaged to another man, and she was going to marry that other man. That was the way of things, the way of her life, and nothing could change it.

But she couldn't help but feel like she was getting trapped in a poorly written, cheesy romance novel. Nothing like her favorite book. Engages, forbidden lovers, evil identical twins. Okay, so the last one hadn't been used as far as she knew in a book

Without much thought, Marie allowed her servant to help dress her in the deep purple gown with the royal blue top and trimmings, giving the false illusion of depth to the gown. Her hair and makeup were done perfectly in record time. As she stared in the mirror, Marie could finally see that 'Little Lady' her mother always talked about. She had always thought herself rather homely compared to the other girls she saw, but seeing her reflection just now... perhaps she had been wrong.

Or maybe it was because she was imagining what Logan might think of her. It wasn't good to be thinking of a man other than her husband-to-be. Give her a break, she knew her fiancé even less than Logan. And he really was handsome, in his own way. And kind, unlike his brother.

An involuntary shudder ran through her at thinking about that man. Even afterwards, Logan had offered to bring him to justice. His own brother. Given what he'd done, she didn't blame him.

"Marie? Are you in there?"

Plastering on her fake smile, Marie opened the door to greet her father. The smile withered away when her dark eyes traveled up to her father's face. He was wearing a medical patch on the side of his face. The same side that Marie had injured Logan's twin with. How ironic.

"I'm here, and I'm fine, Father. Forgive me, I took a walk, got lost, then fell asleep."

"Fell asleep? I was attacked by some maniac in the third class looking for you. Now I have to go around with this thing on and come up with a better tale than a drunken man hitting me with a lucky shot."

"I'm sorry," she replied, head hanging. She really was sorry, if she had known this much trouble would have been caused, she would have returned right away.

"Never mind that now. The important thing is that you are safe and back where you belong. I shall be ready in a few minutes, then we can leave."

Marie watched her father retreat to her parents room to get changed. In return, she went back into her own to gather her accessories.

Earrings... check. Necklace... check. Bracelet... check. Gloves... check. Gloves... "Oh, no..." came out as a distressed whisper.

Frantic, the small girl bolted to the front door and opened it, desperately searching for a specific person.

"Easy, darlin. Where's the fire?"

Careful to leave her foot in the door so it didn't close, yet careful to not have it opened all the way, Marie grabbed Logan's jacket and pulled him closer so she could whisper, "I know this isn't why you agreed to help protect me, but I need your help with something else..."

"Name it."

Entranced by those hazel eyes of his, it took a good shaking of her head to get back to the present dilemma. "Logan, I had a ring. It must have come off when your brother attacked me. It's very important that I have the ring before supper, but I can't go and find it. Can you go?"

If he refused, then she could proclaim it was a matter of life or death. That if she appeared without the ring, she'd be executed in public by her family, which may or may not had been a lie. "No, but I can get some of my friends to do it and meet us at the Reception."

Good enough. With a smile and a quick kiss on his cheek, her lips were stabbed by his outrageous sideburns, she doubted she even touched the skin, she returned to her quarters, praying to whatever Gods might hear that the ring be returned before someone noticed it was no longer on her finger.

Using the mental technique Xavier taught him, Logan called for help on that matter.

By the time he'd finished with the mental conversation, it was time to head out to dinner. Naturally, Logan walked a ways down the corridor and waited, acting as normal as could be. Within a few minutes, the family exited their quarters. Husband and wife, arm in arm to help guide her, with little, precious Marie trailing behind, looking so much like that of a lamb about to be slaughtered.

Taking caution to follow and not get caught, yet not lose sight of her, he followed them to the grand staircase.

Yet stopped dead in his tracks when the family turned to head down the stairs.

Marie's father had a bandage over one cheek. Fuck.

His job was going to be a lot harder than he thought.

The family stopped and chatted along the way, with Marie acting even shyer than usual, keeping her hands firmly clasped behind her back.

"Ah, Mr. Logan, what a delight to get to speak with you alone."

Logan glared at the man who dared to interrupt his tracking and his shock over the new revelation. Any normal man would have been made into a blubbering idiot with the only thought that of pure survival instinct to get away from this man. But Bruce Ismay was far from a normal man, and felt the need to speak to each and every first class passenger about the _Titanic_.

"I trust that you are enjoying your stay here onboard White Star Line's finest?"

Well, up to the point that he got the shit beat out of him below decks and Marie was attacked, everything had been rather peachy. "I'd do a frickin' little tap dance if I could, this ship is so great."

Apparently, Ismay was also immune to Logan's sarcasm. "Odd, I honestly wouldn't take you for the dancing type. What is it that you do, Mr. Logan?"

Logan had to bite his tongue to keep from saying 'I'm just a man who gets really pissed off by guys like you. Just a man who has these claws that are just itchin' to put you out of our misery'. "I'm a guard," he answered with a half-lie.

"A guard? Oh... how... splendid. Well, cheerio."

There was no hiding the disappointment in his voice, nor the surprised yet happy look on Logan's face as Ismay attacked another young man with the same initial question. Hobnobbing with the rich and famous wasn't his idea of a good time. And he put making conversation with them that required something more than the occasional grunt at the bottom of his 'to-do' list.

Turning around just in time, Logan caught a young man taking Marie's hand and kissing the back of it. The man then smiled and kissed her cheek, to which she blushed lightly.

Things were just getting worse as he recognized the man whom Marie was with. But Logan felt it all had a connection. That pieces of the puzzle could be put into place if he simply chose to.

Going down the next flight of stairs, although it was impolite to do so, Logan wasn't a polite man, and he eavesdropped on the conversation.

"Come, my dear. Let me show you off to the other guests," Graydon said with a huge smile on his face, proud of having the gorgeous woman by his side.

They talked for a while with other rich people, until one of them asked to see Marie's engagement ring. Turning deathly pale, yet the makeup covered for some of it, she shrank back some, gripping her hands even tighter behind her back.

"Marie, darling, show them the wonderful ring Graydon gave you," her 'father' ordered in a relatively gentle voice.

"Uh, well... Ah... uh..." The poor girl looked as if she was about to faint on the spot, and Logan could do nothing about it but swear in his mind for whoever Xavier had sent to hurry it up.

"Oh, Maaaarieeeeeeee!" came the two highest pitched squeals Logan had ever heard in his entire life. The sound made him cringe in pain as two girls went zooming by him down the stairs and assaulted Marie with instant pointless conversation and physical admiring of her dress.

The only reason why Logan was going to let the girls live, was because it was all a ruse. He could tell that Amy had been running quite some distance, and must have used one of her powers to have gotten the ring so fast. Without anyone noticing, Jenn slipped it into Marie's hand and she placed it on her finger. He had never seen Marie so relieved.

Yet Logan couldn't help but notice what finger she put the ring on, and the way the young man was acting around her. Xavier hadn't mentioned her being married or engaged or anything, but that looked to him like that was the case. It pained him to think thoughts like those, so he pushed them aside for now to be brought up later.

As soon as they had come, Amy and Jenn ran off to where Amy couldn't be seen almost completely out of breath and exhausted. Using one of her powers of altering time to appear to move faster put a great deal of strain on the girl. If she used them the entire way to the Scotland Road, found the ring, and ran back, she wasn't going to be able to sleep that night with the horrendous migraines she was due for.

Certain voices drew his attention back to Marie. The couple that had been there before were gone, replaced by another group of people. The young girl that made it a point to wear only the color red no matter what was currently swooning over Marie's ring. Her brother, along with the eldest of the group, Erik... something or other, Xavier had said -- were staring at Amy and Jenn. Jenn had just returned with a glass of water for her friend, and the two men found the girls fairly interesting. It was easy to tell what was going through the young one's head, but Erik... Erik was a different matter.

The moment that the rest of his gang showed up, Logan had to tear his observations away from Marie in order to relay the new information to Xavier. They were in a brightly lit public place where no one could really get alone. Marie should be fine here, even in the clutches of the enemy.

"Bad news, Chuck," Logan stated as soon as the Professor was within earshot.

"How so?" Xavier hobbled over to stand beside Logan, acting as if they were talking about something as normal as the stock market.

"The shapeshifter is Marie's father."

"Indeed... that is bad news... For it will make things that much harder for us. Now I know how Erik always manages to sit with them." Xavier pondered over the news before addressing everyone. "Let us go sit down to dinner. There we can discuss these important matters more."

Without complaint, the large group moved as one to do so.

**April 13th, 1912  
****7: 07pm**

During dinner, Marie forced herself to not once glance at the table in which Logan and his friends sat. Even though she felt the heated gaze of him on her numerous times. Someone had tried to harm Logan by using her, and she didn't want the same people to feel it necessary to do it again. The feeling that his twin was involved in that also came to mind.

So instead, she would act like she was admiring her ring. Which served two causes. One: It made it look like she really liked it. Which she did, but not when she thought about what it meant. And two: It gave her something to look at when Logan was looking at her so she wouldn't glance back at him.

"Marie, dearie, what color did we decide would be the main scheme for the wedding?" her mother asked gently.

"Deep or light red, Mother. The color of passion and love."

"That's right. Oh, I only wish I could see you in your wedding gown. But I can imagine, and you'll look so gorgeous in my mind..."

Graydon smoothed a side of his slick, brown hair back. "Indeed. I also await that presentation with bated breath."

More conversation about the wedding took place all throughout dinner. It seemed to be the only thing anyone could talk about around her. Truthfully, she was rather sick of it. Still gripping to her fantasies of marrying for love, not money or a title, or anything else. Which was odd, given that her family had a prominent title and lots of money, what use would they have for more? Without that need, she should be allowed to marry whomever she desired.

After dinner, the men parted ways to go to the smoking room and talk about business and things that had no place for a woman. Before her father left, he gave strict orders that she was to take her mother to their room and to stay there. On her way out, helping her mother back to their quarters, Marie chanced a quick peek over at Logan. Unfortunately, at that moment he was in a conversation with his group and not looking at her.

So she continued on and got her mother to their room and turned her over to a couple of their servants. As she was leaving to go to her own room, a knock on their door was brought to her attention.

Curious, she opened the door and was greeted by Jennifer. One of the girls she met earlier that day. "Jennifer?"

Jennifer just stood there and smiled at Marie. It took a quick and harmless jab to the shoulder from the elbow of the young man standing next to her. Bobby, if she remembered correctly. "Oh! Um, we were wondering... A friend of ours is going to take us to the lower decks, would you like to come?"

"I can't, I'm grounded," Marie admitted with a sigh. It was so unfair. So she ran into a little trouble before, she took care of it, and Logan had sworn to protect her.

Jennifer laughed. A sweet laugh that made you want to laugh with her, even if you have no clue what was funny. "You're twenty. Officially, at eighteen they no longer have any right to ground you. Come on, be rebellious for once. Who knows if you'll be able to again."

Had to admit, the girl had a point. She was twenty, dammit! Why should she still be taking orders from her parents. She was a young woman, fully grown and capable of making her own decisions and following her own rules. Without complete carelessness, Marie wrote out a note to her parents and put it someplace where her father or a servant might find it. After all, it would a very bad thing to have them go through a repeat of earlier in the day.

Marie exited the room and joined the couple in walking down the hall. "So, who is this friend who's supposed to take us?"

"Remy LeBeau," Jenn answered. "He's escorting Amy to her room, she can't join us. Major migraine, poor girl. Remy and Logan practically had to carry her out of the Dining Room. They both should be joining us down there."

Logan was going to show? That made things even better.

Bobby lead the way to the third class area of the ship. As soon as they got here, he yanked off his jacket and bow tie. "I hate these things. Hank was right, the bow tie is the most devilish villain in the world. All in the name of fashion... If you ask me, it's not worth it."

Marie felt her heart rate increase ever so slightly. This was going to turn into her first real battle of the sexes. It was thrilling, to say the least. Which meant that she lived a rather pathetic life. "They aren't as bad as corsets. Imagine having to always wear those. You can never lace it up yourself."

Jenn agreed and Bobby backed down. "Okay, okay. I know better than to argue long with one woman, and I certainly know better than to argue at all with two. So I'll just wave the white flag now, you win."

A ways down the corridor that looked drastically different from the ones she was used to, loud music could be heard playing. The walls were just painted glossy as was the floor. Instead of the wallpaper, wood trimmings, and carpeted floor she was used to. The music got louder the further they walked until they reached an open door.

Inside it was just one large mass of people having a good time, drinking beer and smoking up a storm. The room was noticeably bigger than Marie first thought once she went down the small flight of stairs into it, but it was still packed with people. Hardly any room to move around.

If it weren't for Jenn and Bobby, Marie would have felt extremely out of place in her first class attire. Everyone around them were mainly dressed in dirty, torn, ragged, you name it, it looked like it had been done to it, clothing. Despite that, they were all laughing and having a great time. One might have felt bad for them if it weren't for that fact. The fact that they would have far more fun living the lives they did than becoming a member of the first class.

"Ah, chere, you must be de girl ev'ryone talks 'bout," a young man who came up beside her said. He had long brown hair drawn into a low ponytail and dark glasses to hide his eyes. His accent was peculiar and one Marie had never heard before. The man took her gloved hand in his and kissed the back of it like a gentlemen. He was a gentleman, for he was dressed in expensive clothes and carried a trenchcoat draped across one arm. "Remy LeBeau, at your service, Mademoiselle."

Ahhh, so this was Remy. Not bad... Not bad at all. The man was attractive and had the most charming smile to go with him. If Marie heard right, that Amy was quite the lucky woman to have this man wrapped around her fingers in such short notice. Jenn was lucky too, Bobby was so sweet and funny. They both were lucky... They appeared to be in love with the men they were with. Given that Amy and Remy had met on the ship, perhaps there was such a thing as love at first sight.

"If you are lookin' for Logan. He's right over dere, mon chere," he said and gestured to a corner table of the room where Logan was sitting with a beer in his hand and a cigar hanging out of his mouth. This looked so much more like his element. Marie was surprised to see how relaxed he was sitting there with his back to the wall and in perfect view of the stairs. The only way in or out of the room.

Pushing her way through the crowd, Marie sat down beside him, careful not to block his view of the stairs. Logan raised an eyebrow in surprise. Apparently, he hadn't expected her to come. It was then that Marie noticed the numerous empty glasses of beer that sat on the table. "You didn't drink all these yourself, did you?" Once the words were out, she wanted to kick herself. Of course he didn't, no human could and not be dead drunk.

"Yep," he replied calmly, cigar still hanging from his mouth. He took a puff and pulled the brown appendage from his mouth, reveling for a moment before blowing the smoke out.

She was surprised. Well, maybe surprised was too weak a word. More like... aghast. Did he honestly expect her to believe he drank all that beer and still looked and acted as if he was just on his first?

"You want one?" he asked in between puffs.

She didn't even hesitate in her reply. "Yes."

"Go get one."

For the second time within a minute, Marie was shocked, and just a little bit afraid. Until she saw the amused glint in his eyes and reminded herself that his twin would have facial injuries. Down here, on more of his turf than hers, he wasn't going to play nice-guy or gentlemen anymore. Perhaps it was fair in its own way.

Moving gracefully, Marie got up and got a couple glasses of beer for herself. After setting them down on the table, she made sure he realized that they were both for her and none for him. Logan gave her his half-smile at that, amused that she was playing along by his rules. If he wanted another beer, he'd have to get it himself, same as her.

They sat in comfortable silence as the Irish music played around them, the fast beat making her heart pump in rhythm. Marie finally broke the silence between them. "Thank you... for getting my ring. I thought I was dead..."

The man next to her simply shrugged his shoulders as if it were nothing, took another large gulp of beer, and unbuttoned his dress shirt all the way down and opening it up some.

Good God... that's a chest... That was a chest. That was a chest unlike any she had seen before. Even though Marie didn't have another chest to compare it too in her memory, she was sure that the man sitting next to her had the chest of all chests. The muscles moved so smoothly whenever he moved. Her dark eyes trailed over it, drinking it all in as she was drinking her beer. She didn't even notice how bad it tasted compared to what she was used to.

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as her eyes glazed over his chest and to his biceps, then down his arms. His arm didn't appear to be injured anymore. "Is your arm alright?" she asked, puzzlement clearly etched into her face and voice.

"Oh, yeah. It's great," he replied, trying to hide the fact that he wanted to avoid the question, and failing. "It wasn't nearly as bad as it looked."

"You sure? It still looked really bad, you should still have it in a sling or something." The scraping noises of her chair scooting towards him made him pull away.

"I'm fine, really."

"Okay..." Maybe it was like the man thing she always read about in her books. They just didn't want the women to see how hurt they were for some odd reason. Though that would give them the opportunity to pamper them and cater to their every whim, and what man wouldn't want that? No one else would usually know about it.

She sat back in her hard chair, her spine perfectly straight despite the discomfort. As much as she forced it down, the hurt remained at his rejection of letting her even look. Once she thought about it, she realized that before they were alone, in private. Whereas here, they were in full view of a lot of people.

Yet again, they sat in silence. Neither saying a word, just stealing glances now and then.

Until someone came up to their table and bowed before Marie. It was Remy, he had extended his arm to her in the fashion of a gentleman. "Would you like t' dance, mon chere?"

What the hell. She was there to have a good time unlike that she had ever had before. And dancing the way they were was something she hadn't done before. It looked so... unchoreographed. And so fun at the same time. With a grin, she took his arm and allowed herself to be led to the area where people were dancing.

Remy immediately swept her into the music and into the dance, leading her on with the way his hands would apply pressure before his feet moved. With one hand joined with her gloved one, and the other on her waist, they were off. Dancing and laughing and having a rather good time. He spun her, dipped her, which she had to admit was quite an experience. And they hopped around like a couple of fools, just like everyone else.

It was so wild and carefree. Completely unlike the dancing she was used to that was so proper and every step was placed perfectly. This was uncivilized, improper gander. And she was loving every minute of her rebellious actions, even with this strange man.

She was having so much fun she didn't even notice the man standing behind until Remy ran straight into him. With a growl and a shove, Logan pushed Remy away from Marie. In protest she put up a pissed off front, and succeeded even though she was gasping for air.

Remy was also going to protest, but Logan cut him off before he could even begin. "Get lost, Cajun. I doubt your girl would like to hear of you gettin' a little too friendly dancin' with someone else."

Finally able to find her voice, Marie yelled at him. "How dare you ruin my fun!"

"I figured you were too caught up in it to notice his hand on your ass." Okay, so it was a lie. Truthfully, his face was getting too close to her exposed neck for Logan's tastes. And not all of it was from what the Professor had warned him about.

"It was not! Believe me, I would know! After all, it was my ass and not yours!"

They were creating a scene. And a scene was not something that they needed at that moment. Putting a hand to the small of her back, he pulled her closer and even though he hadn't a clue how, he began to slowly dance with her in time to the slow Irish song that was being played. If it weren't for his good hearing, the small gasp she emitted would have been lost to him in the music and background chatter. Her eyes had also widened and darkened some from their normal chocolate color as she looked up at him with surprise.

His breath was hot on her ear as he lowered his head and rested it gently against the side of hers, careful to have her hair protect him from her skin. Her skin that he hadn't the slightest clue what it would do to him and was slowly wanting to throw caution to the wind and find out. She smelled so good amidst the brewed beer, the cigarettes, the cigars, sweat, blood, and everything that made up everyone else. She was like a flower, something beautiful and colorful and smelled nice among the weeds of the people. The faint vanilla scent inflared his senses and when he felt her breath just mere centimeters from his neck was driving him to the point of madness.

When he moved a little more than intended, her lips brushed the skin on his neck. Reflex made them both jerk apart as if touched by the scorching flame of a candle.

"I'm sorry-" they both sputtered at the same time, which in turn caused her to pause and smile while he raised an eyebrow.

The moment over, Marie asked him what time it was. When Logan took out his pocketwatch, he was surprised at how late it was. They must have been there for hours and not known it. But there was no wonder why Marie was so exhausted now, to top that off with the dancing she did earlier.

"Ah should be gettin' back," she said, her voice still thick with emotion from the brief contact.

"I'll escort you."

She nodded and smiled in reply before taking the lead in going up the stairs. Someone rushing down them made her stop her assent.

Bobby grabbed onto Logan's shirt sleeve to get his attention. "We have a problem. Where's Remy?"

Without even looking, he jabbed a thumb behind him where the Cajun was using his charm on a little girl who was almost asleep in her mothers arms. "What is it, kid?"

"Amy's missing and Jennifer disappeared"

"What d'ya mean?"

"I mean missing. As in gone. Amy's no longer in her room. There's no way she could have gone anywhere in her condition. It would have lasted well into the morning. And Jenn just disappeared as I was walking her back to her quarters. I felt a great gust of wind, then she was gone."

"Bobby, you take Marie back to her room. I'll get Remy and we'll search."

She had wanted to thank him for the wonderful time, but he already had her back to him and was pushing through the crowd. With a sigh, she silently headed back to her quarters and her life.


	5. April 14th, 1912 -- Morning

**April 14th, 1912  
****1: 57am**

"I was about to give up hope that you would show."

"Irene had another vision. She has no doubt it's this voyage it will happen."

Erik glanced briefly at the blue woman beside him. No matter how many times she relaxes and goes back to her original form, he will never get used to seeing a blue woman. "Does she know when?"

Raven shook her head, a few strands of her fiery red hair falling out of place. "No, but she says there will sufficient time in doing what we plan after we hit."

"Your top priority is making sure that the girl complies enough for it to happen."

"What about yours? Your stupid henchmen didn't dispatch of that one like they said. In fact, I don't doubt she's with him now. I'll have to work more on her." She eyed the cigarette hanging from her leader's mouth.

With a slight grin, Erik retrieved his case and held it out to her, open. She took one and he lit it for her. The two of them stood for a few minutes in silence, reveling as the addictive drug spread like wildfire through their systems. Raven rarely smoked, but when she did, he didn't say anything about it. He had practically thrown his life away to those little wrapped goods, but he wasn't about to tell anyone else not to.

"Do not worry about them, my dear," he said with a puff of smoke escaping his lips. "New events have unfolded which I believe will keep them occupied."

"What new events?"

As if planned on cue, Wanda, dressed in her customary red, approached the duo at the stern of the ship. "You've made Pietro a happy man."

Erik chuckled at the thought. "Yes, I've no doubt I have. But make it clear to him that neither of the girls is to be harmed at all costs. Unless one tries to escape, then some force will be tolerated in order to keep them contained."

"Why not harm them? They're our enemy."

Erik treated Wanda as one would a child who simply does not understand. "Because, one day they may join our cause. And if we harm them, all hope of that is lost. You know how powerful the one is, and how useful the other could be."

"Yes. Perhaps I should go back and remind Pietro before he tries anything. I don't trust him alone with them for long. And, how long are we to keep them?"

"You'll know when you can release the girls," Erik answered, unwilling to tell his other followers of the events to come just yet. They might not be of good service to him if they knew.

Wanda opened her mouth to ask what he meant by that, but Erik had turned his back on her. Sighing and clamping her mouth shut, the red-clad woman left at the dismissal.

"I don't know who's more incompetent. The two lackeys in the lower classes, or that hyper boy," Raven mused more to herself than to Erik.

"That is a good question. One I hope they do not go to great lengths to answer."

**April 14th, 1912  
****10: 15am**

Peaceful slumbers were rudely interrupted with a rough shake and a shout of her name, yelling at her to get up. Her body and mind felt like they hadn't received the required amount of sleep and begged to be left alone. But the unnerving person was persistent and wanted her up, no questions asked.

With a moan, Marie opened one eye and waited as it focused on the fuming form of her father. "Get up, dammit!" he yelled at her even louder, making her flinch despite the foggy haze of consciousness she had entered.

Never in her life had she seen him so mad, and it frightened her greatly. Especially since she couldn't fathom what he was-- Oh... She had gone out when she was supposed to be grounded. That was it, wasn't it. "Mmm... Father?" her voice was weak and cracked from having just woken up.

"I cannot believe how you deliberately disobeyed me."

Forcing herself into a sitting position, she ignored the strong protests to just curl up under the covers. "I'm twenty years old, Father. Old enough to make my own decisions and live my own life."

"So far as you have Darkholme as your last name, you are my daughter and will do as I say. Is that understood? Your mother needed you last night. She had another one of her attacks, and you weren't here to help her. You know you are the only hope of getting her out of them before she passes out!"

He stared coldly at Marie, his anger still clearly evident upon his aged features. In fact, he looked many years older from the previous night. A lot was weighing on him, she knew, and hated that she had added to it in any way, even moreso, she hated that she hadn't been there for her mother. "I'm sorry, Father."

"Starting with that man you continue to see. You are not allowed to anymore. He is no good for you, Marie. You must keep yourself pure for Graydon."

"But, Father--" Marie began to protest before she was violently cut off.

"Not 'but's about it! I refuse to allow my daughter to associate with that... that... piece of gutter trash. Nor will I allow you to associate with any of his friends."

"He is not gutter trash! And I will associate with whomever I want." The argument was beginning to make her wake up. "You cannot live my life for me, Father."

Robert Darkholme opened his mouth to argue more when his wife interrupted. "Darling, Marie must get ready if we are to be in time for the tour."

The tour of the ship! She had forgotten about. It was at eleven o'clock, which left her hardly any time to get her sorry butt out of bed and into something appropriate. Mr. Andrews was giving tours to whoever wanted one, and her father had booked it with the Master Shipbuilder last night over dinner.

Her father glared at her. "We shall continue this later." Before Marie could even blink, Robert was out the door and closing it behind him.

With a sigh, she hoisted herself to her feet, stretching her lazy limbs. Her dresser was greeted by way of shuffling feet and half-closed eyelids. She grabbed a hold of her usual corset and fitted it on before peeking her head out and calling to a maid for help. Silence reigned as she was laced up. Usually Jubilee was quite chattery about the wedding. As if she could sense that Marie didn't wish to discuss anything, her servant remained blissfully silent as she laced up the corset tightly.

If there was one thing in life she despised more than being forced to marry. It was corsets. They were as unpleasant as Hell. They were hard to move in, made her back ache something fierce, moved her internal organs to places where they should not be, and could sometimes make breathing difficult. However, she had to admit that she had it far better than her ancestors, who required Fainting Rooms because of the damn things. Why did fashion always have to be a pain?

Allowing her maid to dress her and do up her hair and makeup gave Marie a lot of time to think. Mainly about last night with Logan. He had been so different in that atmosphere, so more at home. Where in turn, she was the one who felt out of place. Then that waiter, Remy, dancing with her before Logan interrupted. Not that she cared much about their little tiff after he started to dance with her. It was one of those magical moments she read about in her novels. Those moments that were so perfect that nothing else existed except for the person she was with.

It was in no way truly right, what happened then. But it felt like it was, even when they touched skin to skin, though so brief an instant. Then the parting terms weren't the best. But nothing good can last, as she has found out through life. Her Father's orders would have to be ignored, at least to find out what happened to that girl. Plus, Marie couldn't shake the feeling that she had something to do with her reasoning for having to retire so early to her room. Which in turn would have contributed to her disappearance.

Thinking about it frightened her so. Someone had taken those girls, and the thought of someone evil like that being on the ship wasn't very comforting. It was bad enough when it was just Logan's twin. Unless he was the one that took them. No, she refused to think of that possibility. She refused to think of what could be happening to Amy and Jenn in the clutches of that evil, inconsiderate man.

A knock on the door reminded her of the tour. Marie quickly exited the room and walked with her family, barely noticing that Logan was once again back at duty looking out for her without her parent's knowledge.

Her father would have a meltdown if he saw him, so Marie kept the noticing to a minimal. All she wanted to do was go to him and ask if they found the girls and would he get some sleep. It was obvious he had pulled an all-nighter, which wasn't a good sign on the former question.

Robert introduced her and her mother to the cheerful and kind Thomas Andrews, the Master Shipbuilder of the wonderful ship they were traveling on. "A great pleasure to meet you both, young ladies," he declared with a faint Irish accent.

The ladies returned the pleasantries and waited the few minutes for Graydon to show. He did with a smile and a wave, his long coat blowing in the cool wind. He truly was a picture of a fine gentleman, someone that every girl dreamed of being a wife to. Except for Marie.

In fashion with older times, he greeted both of the women by way of kissing their hands. Irene blushed and laughed at Graydon, while Marie did the same, only not as convincing as her mother. She just had far too much on her mind to act the role she was supposed to play well.

With Andrews heading the group of tourists, they walked towards the bow of the ship to begin the tour at the bridge. On the way, he went on and on about how many tons of steel, wood, copper, etc., etc. were put into the ship. How many hands it took to piece it together, how many days. The different complications and last minute ideas, and the uniqueness of a few of the things.

"Why are there four funnels when you only use the three?" she could hear Graydon ask out of curiosity. From what she had heard, Graydon had made a name and money for himself by investing in many different material industries. The thought of wasting such precious material just for show was something rather alien to him.

"For both appearance and to solve the problem of getting rid of the smoke and steam caused by the kitchens. That is why during mealtime you will notice something coming out of it."

Mr. Andrews certainly did know every nook and cranny of the ship, why it was there, how it got there. Everything.

They met with the Captain, chatted for a brief while, and possibly went into every room they could on the tour. All the while, Andrews was asking his own questions and taking notes on what they thought.

What amazed Marie the most, was how Logan always managed to stay out of sight from the rest of the group. Even when they backtracked, it was like somehow he always knew where they were going, or could hear Mr. Andrews as he always said where they were heading next.

When they passed a strew of lifedoats, Andrews spouted figures about them as well. Irene's face scrunched up in puzzlement as she thought. "But... Mr. Andrews, are there not enough for everyone?"

Andrews young face saddened slightly, making him appear much older at that moment. "'Bout half, actually." He quickly spoke again so no one needed to inquire futher. "In fact, I installed these new type davits, which can take an extra row of boats inside of this one. But it was thought -- by some -- that the deck would look too cluttered. So I was over-ruled."

"That is inhumane!" her mother exclaimed in shock. "How can one over-rule the safety of the people?"

"I often wonder the very same thing, Mrs. Darkholme. But you can sleep soundly, I have built you a good ship, strong and true. She's all the lifeboats you need."

"At least if there is a problem, we know we'll be fine," Graydon tried to reassure Irene. Yet his statement only chilled Marie's blood more than anything previous had.

By the end, Marie's feet were killing her, her stomach wouldn't shut up as she had missed breakfast, and the knowledge about the lifeboats was rather unsettling to mix with her mother's precognition's. They had gone through everything, ranging from the Bridge to the Turkish Baths, the Grand Staircase to the Squash Court that was being used so they could watch a match. Since they had missed lunch, the group opted to head for the Café Parisian that would serve in between meals during the day.

The Café was small, but still had enough room to be comfortable. Many windows adorned one side so they ordered three tables to be placed closer together for them to all sit at. Immediately a waiter came out. One she recognized as Remy LeBeau.

Even though she couldn't see his eyes, she knew he had also stayed up all night searching for Amy at least. From what she was told, it was like love at first sight for the passenger and the crewmember. Even though society would greatly frown upon the two of them being together, they didn't seem to care. It was comforting in a way, to know that true love could reign supreme at times.

"You two are getting married?" Andrews asked with astonishment, breaking her out of her thoughts. "I hadn't known. Congratulations, both of you."

"Why, thank you, Mr. Andrews," Graydon said.

"Tell me, what do you all think of your rooms? Are they nice, beautiful, small? Anything at all, I would love to hear."

With hearty laughs all around, they helped the man with his questions to better the ship and further ones.

Still, Marie remained distant through the conversation, even when it turned back to the wedding. Her parents had planned everything, so she didn't need to answer any questions concerning it. Not even on what her gown would be like. The finest silk and lace with delicate rose petals planned on being woven into the whole thing in patterns the day before the ceremony.

Marie stifled a yawn at the boring conversation, praying for it to end so they could leave. She'd had her food, there was nothing more she wanted to do there, and feigning illness was beginning to stale fast. She had used it for every meal on the ship. Although, now that she thought about it, she could convey it to seasickness. It struck her right after eating. Yes, that explanation would do fine.

"Excuse me... But I believe I have a problem with ocean traveling and eating. May I be excused to go lay down?"

"You shall go straight to our quarters," her father ordered, but not too harshly, as there were others there.

Graydon got up and took her hand gently. "Allow me to escort you, my dear." Without waiting for her to answer, he bid the guests at the table good-bye and left with her beside him and hanging off his arm. "It saddens me to hear that this voyage is not as enjoyable as it should be for you."

"It is enjoyable enough, Mr. Creed. Just a little wooziness after eating will not ruin it for me."

"Please, my dear. Graydon. Remember, Graydon," he reminded her of their first meeting in which he asked for her to call him by his given name.

"Of course, I'm sorry. I forgot."

He smiled at her and lead her back to her quarters, only stopping once to chat with other passengers on the Grand Staircase. "Is there anything else you need?" he inquired of her at her door.

"No, thank you. That will be all."

With a bow, and another kiss to her hand, he left her in peace. She entered and prepared to truly greet her bed when a knocking on the door made her pause and backtrack.

"Marie, it's me. Open up."

Logan... Without hesitation, she allowed him to enter the room. "Shouldn't you be looking for the missing girls? I take it from your appearance that you have yet to find them."

Logan shook his head to stay awake and ran a hand through his unruly hair that was in desperate need of being brushed. "I did that last night. Didn't come up with anything, so I decided to go back to what I was doing before."

"Looking after me..."

"Yeah..."

"Has there been a ransom?"

"No. The Professor doesn't believe that's why they were taken."

Marie was about to ask why when she noticed just how bad Logan's situation was. He couldn't stand still on his own two feet, his body swayed heavily from side to side as if they were on a small boat instead of the largest ship in the world. He was trying his damnedest to stay awake, and failing miserably. "Logan... Come here."

Gently, she took his arm and herded him to her room. As much as she wanted to give him the bed, she wanted to sleep as well. And if she took the chair in the room, sleep would be impossible. Quickly, before he had the chance to pass out on her and make things that much more difficult, Marie shoved the comfort chair in her room to the back of the closed door and sat him down in it. She then placed the footstool with a few books on top to prop his feet up. As she did so the peaceful sound of his snoring assaulted her hearing.

Well... if you could call it snoring. To her, it was more like a gentle purring at the moment. Much that like a cat, only louder. A quick nap would do them both wonders of good, then the questions could be asked and answered while Marie didn't have to fear of someone walking in and seeing him there with his chair propped against the door.

Only allowing herself to peel off her jewelry, hair clips, gloves, and hard shoes, she snuggled beneath the covers and watched the man sleeping soundly across the room from her before she joined him in the peaceful slumbers.

**April 14th, 1912  
****4: 33pm**

The last thing he remembered was... Well, that was a toughie... If his dreams were any indication, the last thing he thought of was Marie... Sweet, perfect Marie.

Wait a minute... Marie? Nostrils blaring, he could smell her. She was close. One eye opened, then the other to reveal that he was scrunched down in a comfort chair with his legs on a stool. And Marie was sleeping soundly across the room in her bed. Odd thing was, he had absolutely no memory of getting there. Last thing was probably following her and her fiancé to her room.

What Logan wouldn't give to put the bastard out of their misery, and Marie's as well. She wasn't happy with him, Logan could tell that just by watching her during the tour. There was nothing there on her side of the betroth. And no more than a fancy and lust on his. No love, no true feelings. All it would take was one moment alone with him, and he'd be gone. Logan didn't think anyone would miss him.

Logan happily went over the many different ways to kill Graydon Creed when Marie mumbled something in her sleep and changed positions in bed. Her shift allowed for the covers to scrunch down to her waist, and her position allowed for quite an eyeful of her cleavage to be visible to Logan. The kind of thoughts and dreams he'd been having about a proper, white striped girl was in no way what he should be having. Hell, he'd take his usual nightmares over them.

Limbs ached in protest as he got to his feet and stretched, letting out a mighty yawn/growl. As if answering, Marie let out a sigh while still deep asleep. She looked so peaceful, so relaxed. Like one of those angel carvings decorating parts of the Grand Staircase. Only far more beautiful. No angel had anything on Marie, not even ones he saw in art museums.

Which made him wonder when the hell was he in an art museum to know that.

He was lost in thought when he noticed two chocolate eyes peering at him curiously. Marie's cheeks turned pink at having been caught staring. It wasn't nice or proper, after all. "Penny for your thoughts?" she asked softly, not trusting her voice any louder for fear of her parents being back.

"You don't want to know my thoughts," he replied just as softly, but his voice held concealed pain.

"I do... please..." she protested, moving herself into a seated position on the bed. "You seem to know much about me, and yet I know nothing of you."

"I'm not a person you'd want to know. I'm a... 'piece of gutter trash', as your father put it."

Marie gasped. "You heard that?"

Shit... he forgot about trying to conceal his abilities. "I've good hearing." Still, he refused to tell her anything more. Then her eyes got bigger... and darker... and that lower lip of hers stuck out... Dammit, she was pouting as only women of a high class could do. And she pulled it off without him wanting to laugh in her face.

"Alright!" he whispered harshly, just wanting her to turn off the pouty look. He pulled out the chair for the desk and sat beside her bed. "What do you want to know?"

The girl's expression was almost that of whenever Chuck or Red used their powers, only hers was far more focused as she pondered. "What about... Logan. That's all I know of your name."

"'Cuz that's all there is to it, darlin'. 'Bout fifteen years ago I woke up in the Canadian wilderness with no prior memory. I found a hunter's knife nearby with 'Logan' carved on the handle. It felt familiar to me, so I figured it was my name. Beyond a few flashes of my life before, I've still got nothin'."

"That's so horrible... What are those flashes?"

"I can't say. They aren't good things. I've worked as a hunter for most of my life. Traveling from place to place, searching for work. I met my current employers in some dive in the outskirts of London."

"A hunter... No wonder you have such keen senses."

It was odd how he never thought of using that as an excuse before for his senses. "Yeah..."

"You have a girl somewhere?"

He chuckled some to bid him debate time. Should he or shouldn't he tell her... Eh, she was going to be married anyways. "I'm the type of guy who had a girl in every place I came to. Whether or not we even understood each other's language."

"Oh..." she didn't seem disappointed by the news, more curious really. "Any that you still think about?"

"A few... Not many. One girl in Japan. Her name was Mariko. She's really the only one I think about. Taught me Japanese and a few of their styles of fighting, which has come in handy at times. They have such a... graceful way of fighting hand-to-hand combat."

Her eyes got that far away look she was prone to when going off into her own little world. "Hm... Sounds fascinating... To join the world of another culture, another society. Learn new and different and exciting things. I'd love to do that..." Those eyes suddenly become sad. "But it'll never happen."

"It could happen. If you want it badly enough, you can make it happen."

"I'm not like you, Logan... I have a place, a responsibility. A duty to be wed and become the perfect wife."

"A duty to waste your life on something and someone you don't want? To be shown off at parties like some prized possession and taken to the occasional bed when a pretty whore couldn't be found?" He got off his chair and sat next to her on the bed. "You aren't property, and you aren't bound as much as you think you are."

They sat in silence while she considered his words. Wanting more than anything to believe them. "Could you teach me some of the things you learned? Like that hand-to-hand combat?"

When she looked at him with those inhumanly large eyes of hers, how could he say no. "Sure... But it takes meditation first."

"Why? What does meditation have to do with fighting?"

"Not much if you were just learning how to deal with a barroom brawl, but that isn't what you asked," he said with his signature half-grin. "Meditation is the first thing you have to learn in Japanese fighting technique, and even other cultures. Honing the mind and body and spirit together is top priority before anything else."

"Show me?"

Grinning just a bit more, he got to his feet and moved some things out of his way to give him more space. The floor was carpeted, so he didn't have to worry about his boots making noise.

Marie's gaze was centered and focused completely onto Logan's frame as it stood there and relaxed when he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. With a few more deep breaths, his hazel eyes revealed themselves. Beginning with a bow, he recalled some of the most basic training moves he learned and performed them without hesitation or falter against an invisible foe.

"I understand now..." she whispered during his session. Had he not had advanced hearing, it would have gone missed. His performance was ended with the customary bow even though there was no higher master there to discipline him.

"You understand?" he inquired.

"Why the meditation is needed. You were right when you said it was graceful." She was so fascinated with what he had done -- given her a taste of another culture.

For the next ten minutes, he regaled her with tales from Japan and other foreign countries he had visited in the life he could remember. She remained enthralled with each and every one, hanging onto all the words that poured from his mouth.

Until his keen senses picked up the turning of her doorknob. Logan realized his error in moving furniture and not moving it back, for there was currently nothing to block the door.


	6. April 14th, 1912 -- Afternoon

**April 14th, 1912  
****5: 21pm**

Without time to think and figure out what to do, Logan had to rely on instinct. When the door opened slowly, he moved himself so he would be hidden by it.

"Miss Marie?" asked a soft voice. A head of black hair kept tied up by a maid's hat peeked into the room.

"What is it, Jubilee?" Marie asked the Asian calmly, trying to keep her servant's attention focused on her and not on the man hiding behind the door.

"Forgive me, Miss, I thought you'd be asleep. We must hurry to get you ready for dinner, Miss. It is almost five thirty."

The maid stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. It was then she noticed the strange and vicious looking man hiding behind the door. Her brown eyes widened and she stepped back in fear, letting out a startled gasp.

Before she could scream and alert others, Logan moved quickly and silence her with a hand on her mouth, and pushed her back into a chair that was behind her.

"Jubilee, Jubes, listen to me," Marie tried to calm the frightened and practically hyperventilating young woman. "It's alright, he's a friend. He won't hurt us. I know he looks like he would, but he won't, I promise. And he will too if it makes you trust him any more."

When a deadly glare comes natural to you, it's extremely hard to erase it for kinder features. But try he did, just for the sake of not being found out by Marie's family.

"Will you trust him?" she asked, silently pleading with her eyes for the young woman to say yes.

Jubilee nodded her head, causing the hand on her mouth to move with it. Slowly, deliberately, Logan removed the hand, yet was careful in case she decided to take back her agreement.

Not a sound came out as she steadied her breathing. "Oh... Miss Marie... This man should not be in here, what would your parents or fiancé think?"

"They will think nothing, because they will never know. And if they find out, I'll know it was you that told them. I can assure you, we weren't doing anything that would cause my father to disown me or for Graydon to call off the wedding. We were just talking." Which was true. What she didn't add was how much she liked to watch him too.

"But... But then what do we do? Mr. Darkholme is waiting for his wife to be ready out there. We cannot sneak him out, nor can you get ready with him in here."

As if she had anticipated this and planned things ahead, Marie moved towards her closet. She pulled out what she would need, then shoved Logan inside. The damn thing was big enough to fit two people in it comfortably, even with all of Marie's clothes. "No peeking," she declared as she shut the doors in his face.

"Quickly, Jubilee," he could hear Marie saying.

Hardly either of them spoke as he listened to the harsh and careless rustling of her clothes. The only light was the small crack in between the two doors. It was very small, but large enough for him to peek out of without them noticing. He was a man after all, how could he pass up an opportunity such as this to see a rich woman dressed in her underwear?

Chances had it be that Marie always had her back facing him, and that damn maid was always in his way of viewing the mirror they were standing in front of. Logan sighed in disappointment, no good show tonight.

Something surprised him, though. It was how perky Jubilee seemed to be, and the way she would at times just bounce across the room as if she had too much coffee. With her being a personal servant, Logan didn't doubt she was also a mutant. That would explain why she wore gloves, even to do Marie's hair, which had to make it a lot harder to do.

"Logan, you stay hidden until we're gone. Then you can go," she whispered to him once finished.

"Wait," he stopped her with the word. "Meet me at the Castle, Your Highness."

She looked puzzled for a moment before a large smile crossed her features. He could tell she had opted for a dark green that perfectly suited her this time, bringing out more color in her eyes. But she had a type of beauty that you could put her in a barrel and she'd still be breathtaking. Especially if that was all she was wearing.

No... he had to keep his mind out of the gutter, keep it off of her thin frame. Off of the way her cheeks and chest flushed whenever he called her 'darlin'. Off of the way she would sometimes drawl out his name. Even more so off of the way his mind imagined she'd scream it when she came.

It looked like another cold bath for him that night.

She was taken at the moment, and there was something possibly having to do her skin. In time, the first would no longer matter, and whatever the problem was with the latter, he could find a way around it. He might not be the smartest thing going, but he sure was damn creative when he wanted to be.

It must had been a good ten minutes before he realized she and her mutant maid had gone. Not that it was a big deal, it was obvious where they would be. And because of that, Marie wouldn't be in danger from her 'father'.

So Logan took his time in getting out of the closet and to the Forward Castle. Even snooped around in her room for a bit and stole one of her scarves she had worn at some point. It still smelled heavily of her, and the primal part of him growled in current satisfaction.

Off he went to follow her there, stuffing the scarf in one of his pockets. His mind remained in a daze of fantasies until a slightly familiar scent caught his attention. In fact, two familiar scents.

But they weren't strong enough to have been created by the people themselves... no... The scents he detected came off of someone who had recently been near them.

A quick scan around the beautiful Grand Staircase revealed the most likely culprit. One of Erik's people. He was chatting with some rich folk that Logan should have known, but the names escaped him. He was easy to spot with his dead white hair and young features. With a smile that said 'hello' as much as 'You move, you die', he walked up behind the young man.

Pietro didn't acknowledge his presence until something hard was placed against his spine. It was too small to be a gun, yet not sharp enough to be a knife. Nevertheless, it was a weapon of some sort. "May you excuse us?" a gruff voice asked.

Politely, the young couple agreed and continued on their rounds of greetings, leaving Pietro to be escorted by Logan to an unnoticeable spot. From what he had been told, Pietro now knew what was pressed against his spine, and took a single guess as to why he was being targeted.

"Where are they?"

Yep. And he really was as straightforward as he'd heard. "Who?"

The bone against his back pressed in deeper, not enough to cause pain yet, but as a reminder. "Don't play 'beat around the bush' games with me, dickhead. Where are they?"

Okay, so playing that game wasn't the smartest thing to do against a guy with killer bone claws, a bad attitude, and heightened senses. But Pietro was fast, and Logan either chose to ignore that fact, or he didn't know. "I don't know what you're talking about."

The man behind him growled menacingly in his ear. "That's right, bub. Just gimme any excuse to drag you off and slash you in two."

Pietro laughed as he used his powers to get out of the Wolverine's grip and behind him. "That's only if you can catch me, which doesn't look too promising, now, does it?"

Logan whirled around, his face contorted into a snarl. Now facing the public, he couldn't have his claws out, so he put the one back in before he turned. Truth was, Pietro had the upper hand, and they both knew it. What good were claws when you couldn't catch your foe? "You'd better learn to watch your back. Next time, I might not care about witnesses."

"Ooooo," the boy feigned the act of fear. "I'm so afraid, I'm gonna go crawlin' home to mommy. Or better yet, to two available girls."

The beast within him growled, forcing it out of his throat to show his displeasure. Amy could take care of herself just as good as he could, but Jennifer was another story. Since working for Xavier, he had taken a sort of parental instinct with the younger of the two best friends. She hated violence, the thought made her sick, so she couldn't protect herself. Logan took it upon himself to do it for her, and had to on a few occasions.

Now she had been taken, and Logan was torn between helping the girl he thought of as a great friend and daughter, or the woman he barely knew yet was feeling some of the same things for, only deeper. He'd tracked the ship up and down last night, yet still couldn't find a trace of either of them. Erik's people knew what they were doing, and knew it well enough to be able to hide the trail.

Only reason why he wasn't doing it still was that Xavier told him he would be of no help to Jennifer for the time being. Erik had been too clever, and only time would tell them where the girls were. Xavier had also proclaimed that Erik had no intentions of hurting the girls. Of course, he couldn't vouch for the others in Erik's little band.

"If you will excuse me," Pietro declared, with a large amount of sarcasm, "I have a few waiters to speak to."

His beast growled again, and was about to stab the boy anyways, screw the witnesses! A cool hand rested lightly on his arm and his name was spoken softly in order to calm his feral side.

"Logan... we do not need for you to make a scene."

His hazel eyes turned to meet those of a pair of abnormally bright blue. Ororo Monroe squeezed his arm gently. There was something about the exotic woman that held so much calm, so much compassion. She could easily pull Logan out of a minor feral state just by speaking to him in a soothing voice. If there was one person he could declare as his most understanding friend, it was Ororo.

"Have you learned anything?" he asked her, hoping to hear some good news. Like that they had a location and he could go and kick someone's ass.

Ororo shook her head sadly, not a single piece of shocking white hair falling out of place of it's delicate position. "No... Nothing but that at meal time, Pietro always speaks to the waiters to prepare two meals for him to take. At least we know they are being fed."

Despite the situation, Logan couldn't help but snicker. "Of course they're feeding them. Erik knows full well the wraith of a hungry Amy."

The African Goddess took his arm even though he hadn't offered it and smiled a him, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Rather like you in the morning without your coffee. You nearly killed Hank when he took the last cup a few weeks ago."

He just shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, it got me the coffee. Whatever works for me, works. Speaking of, why didn't Hank come along?"

"Work. What else? Some of his experiments he could not transport or leave behind, so it will be a couple months before he can join us. Jean is planning on using the vacation to her fullest advantage."

Ahhh, yes. The female doctor. It will never be real in title or on paper, but Jean had proven time and time again to be just as capable as any man. Under secret apprenticeship with Doctor Henry 'Hank' McCoy, she could become their full-time doctor so long as someone else ordered and signed for the supplies.

"I have someplace I have to be, excuse me, Ororo."

"Of course," she nodded in understanding as Logan headed to where he would meet Marie.

**April 14th, 1912  
****6: 37pm**

The sun was still out as Logan stood at the very peak of the ship on the Forward Castle deck. The wind was blowing harder than before, which meant they were either going into it, or the ship had sped up since the last time he was outside. Most likely the latter.

Logan leaned against the railing, puffing away on a cigar. His jacket was hanging loosely on him while his shirt was already unbuttoned and free of their confinement inside his pants. The cold had never bothered him before, so the chill in the air certainly wouldn't.

He was actually beginning to doubt that she would show when he heard the light footsteps behind him. Too light to be a man's, and too loud to be that shapeshifting bitch either. One would go for stealth footsteps and take advantage of the direction the wind was blowing.

The gruff man cocked his head so he could peer behind him and view the girl who had come. He was about to make some snide remark about how long she took, but his voice died in his throat.

She was standing, leaning against the railing and desperately tried to read from it instead of casting glances that were caught by him.

She really did look beautiful when her white streak was lit up by the sun and blowing in the wind, even if it made it a different color. The clouds in the sky ranged from the same color of the sun, to a deep purple. Where the sky and ocean met was a guess on anyone's part, it blended so perfectly. A painter couldn't have created a more beautiful piece of artwork than the sight laying before them from Mother Nature.

He watched Marie in silent wonderment. Watched her expression soften as she read, and her face become illuminated beautifully in the red light when she glanced out to the horizon. Logan had never paid attention to sunsets before that moment, but he quickly deemed it something he wanted to experience often, especially with Marie.

The young woman standing before him had never been more relaxed in her life. The setting was more beautiful than anything she had seen before. Her book no longer holding her interest, she replaced it in the folds of her skirt before venturing even closer to him.

The wind nipped at the hair that had broken free, and ravished the loose folds of her dress. She felt so free standing there with the wind riding against her in waves like a lover's gentle caress. A giggle rose from her lips at the childish memories entering her mind, when she used to sneak outside on the roof of her mansion just to view the sunset.

"Aren't you going to tell me why you asked me here?"

On the last bit of his cigar, Logan took one final puff before throwing it to the sea and turning to face her. "Do I really need to? You came, didn't you?"

Her face suddenly saddened. "Yes... But I only came for one thing..."

Logan didn't like that look on her face. It shouldn't be on her face. And the tone in her voice didn't help matters any either. "Like what?"

He watched as Marie took a few deep breaths to center herself. "I... am here to tell you... We can never meet again."

Logan felt as if he had just been slapped in the face. And he had many a time before, but it had never hurt this bad. "What?"

"I am sorry, Mr. Logan. It would be best if we did not see each other for the remainder of the voyage." Her words were harsh yet strained, and hurt her too. She didn't truly want to mean them, someone else was making her say those things to him. Yet it still hurt no less.

Dangerously close to showing her how wrong she was, he settled for just stepping closer. "Is that what you want?"

"I--"

"Because if it is, then I'll grant it," he interrupted. But I'm not going to leave you alone simply because your parents don't approve." He stared into her eyes, daring her to repeat those words to them.

Eyes brimming with tears, she said in a shaky voice, "It is what I want."

"Bullshit! It's not, and I can tell!" One more step and he was as close as he could be without physically touching her. She flinched back, but it didn't stop him. "Don't throw your life away because of them. You aren't their slave, you are a grown woman free to make her own choices in life."

"No, I'm not." Not wanting him to see the tears, she turned to face the water. "Just go..." she whispered.

"Fine," was all he replied with before turning on his heel and leaving her to her misery and her broken sunset, same as her heart.

**April 14th, 1912  
****7: 15pm**

Logan was fuming and meant to take it out on someone else. But he was expected at dinner, so after lingering around the staircase a while, that was where he headed. He let himself grin forcefully at seeing Xavier had somehow managed to swipe one of the bigger tables that could seat them and Erik's group. It was hard to read whether the old man was pleased or distraught over the seating arrangement.

Even so, he wasn't an idiot. Sandwiching Marie in with people all around her so Logan couldn't get close. Logan was forced to sit in between the two miserable men at the table, making the total three with Logan there. Bobby was absentmindedly freezing his water, while Remy talked about how he and Amy had met. Jean had asked him, although she already knew.

"We met on de second day 'ere. I was workin' in de café when in came dis angel. I mean it, dis girl is an angel. F' some reason, she decided to eat dere 'stead of 'ere f' dinner. Dis angel was de only person dere, an' I was her waiter. I dunno why, but I started talkin' t' her. I know it wasn' my place, but I did. An' she talked t' me. It was so romantic dere wit' de sun setting... I knew dis Cajun had fallen in true love... I know it wasn' my place, but I kissed her when she left... She didn' act repulsed or distraught, so I t'ink she felt it too."

"Awwwwwww," Jean sighed. "That is so sweet..."

"And they let you in here as if you were a passenger?" Erik inquired, more amused by the story than anything else.

"Dey don' know I not one."

"Yet it is not proper. Even if that tramp wanted you here, she obviously isn't now. Probably hiding from you, hoping you'll take the hint," Graydon shot back with a tinge of vehemency. Behavior such as a worker sitting and dining as if he were a first class passenger, he would not accept. "Where do I report you?"

"Mr. Creed, is that really necessary?" Xavier asked. "Mr. LeBeau is not harming anything, and I requested that he join us this night. He is simply granting that request."

The younger man rose from his seat and stared down at the bald head of Xavier's with detest. "Than you should know better than to ask a mere servant to dine with you. Then again, given your company, I shouldn't have expected anything else. Mr. Logan is nothing more than a servant, I'm told."

Logan felt his throat tighten without warning. He glanced at Jean and saw she was attempting to keep the situation from getting any worse with the growl that had been forming in his throat. No doubt it would have made things worse.

"Mr. Logan is a valued member of my family. I do not have servants. I believe in doing things for yourself."

Graydon laughed, a sound which was not at all pleasant and caused Marie to cringe. "Do you expect me to believe you cook your own food? Farm your own food? Wash and mend your own clothes?"

"Yes, we do," he replied without any hesitation.

Marie found nothing wrong with that. She would sometimes sneak into the kitchen and help to cook herself. Cooking was like reading was to her, very calming and therapeutic. Especially when she got to beat the hell out of some meat to make it thinner. Very satisfying. Although nothing would cheer her up after what she had to do.

Not wanting Mr. LeBeau to get into trouble, Marie pleaded with her fiancé to sit down. which received a glare from Logan. After a moment's hesitation, Graydon reluctantly sat back down in his chair to the right of Marie.

"Of course, my dear," he said to her with a fake smile.

The dinner went on as uncomplicated as usual. Or as boring as usual, your pick. For the most part, everyone but Xavier and Lensherr remained silent, only speaking when needed.

"Well..." Xavier exclaimed as he pushed himself to a standing position with his crutch. "Would any of you gentlemen would like to join myself and Erik in the Smoking Room?"

Graydon and Scott acknowledged, but the others politely declined. A non-feral grunt was polite considering the mood Logan was in. He was going to follow the little pipe-squeak as soon as he left.

The rest of the men offered to escort the ladies back to their rooms, leaving Logan free to track him as he pleased.

Pietro didn't even bother with covering his trail as he got the cart with the two meals prepared on it. The waiter offered to take, but the boy refused, declaring he could do it himself.

Once the boy was outside the Reception Area, he picked up the two trays and abandoned the cart. It was then that Logan realized his tracking wouldn't work, and how he couldn't find the girls. In the blink of an eye, Pietro was gone, leaving nothing but an astonishing gust of wind in his wake.

Moving so fast left very little scent for Logan to track by, hence why he had been unsuccessful thus far. He was going to have to demand Xavier worked harder at locating them, his instinct was acting up again. And Logan's instinct was always right.

"Logan?" he turned at the call of his name to face Jean. Fiery haired Jean that was once the object of his fantasies. Hey, he had a thing for red heads. "Would you mind relieving Mr. LeBeau of taking Mrs. and Ms. Darkholme to their quarters?"

Logan sighed. Not quite out of what she had asked to do, but out of not being able to find Jenn any sooner. "Sure," he agreed sorely as the said couple appeared. "Allow me to help escort you ladies?" he asked with a tinge of bitterness.

"Why, thank you, kind sir," Irene said, allowing her arm to be put through the crook in his. "My daughter and I were heading towards our quarters."

With kindness and patience he didn't think possible in him concerning Marie was there, he helped the woman to the rooms, Marie in tow. The cane Irene used whacked his leg a few times, but he kept assuring them that he was alright.

"I can be so clumsy with this thing, forgive me," she said.

"Don't worry. I'm probably walking in a way you aren't used to." Damn, Scooter would have a good laugh if he could-- Aw, shit. They he was, right in their path down the corridor. He and his wife stopped and turned and smiled at him, but he could tell there was a definite shade of humor in Scott's expression before he turned his attention back to nuzzling his wife's neck.

He passed them without a word, wanting to get the duty over with quickly so he could go and beat the shit out of something -- or better yet -- someone.


	7. April 14th, 1912 -- Nightfall

**April 14th, 1912  
****8: 04pm**

Okay... next person to walk through the door was going to go down.

Unless that person came bearing food...

Then she would eat before taking the person out.

But first thing she had to do was figure out how to get out of the restraints. Neither she nor Jenn had any ideas.

The two girls had been uncomfortably cooped up in a first class room that wasn't being used by anyone. Somehow, they had managed to swipe the keys for the room and were using it to hide them. The only time they were allowed out of the restraints was to use the restroom, and even then, they were guarded by the speed demon, so no hope of escape was allowed.

Jennifer shifted uncomfortably in the chair she was tied to. "How long are we going to be here?"

"I don't know. I heard them conversing outside once that this was all to throw them off of that one girl's track. The one Logan seems to fancy."

The red haired one glanced around and bit her lower lip. "He going to show soon? Because I have to go..."

"I know. My throat feels like a desert. But when he releases me, I'm going to do something about it. We've been here far too long as it is."

"What are you going to do?"

Amy grinned at her friend. "You'll see."

The time the girl's spent there passed mostly by talking, staring at the walls, singing songs, thinking about their love interests, and yelling for help, both physically and mentally. For some odd reason, no one had come in aide of their cries for help, even though it was bound that someone had to have heard them.

Amy reflected on how they had become friends by chance. They both came from middle class families, and Amy's father worked for the United States Postal services. Jennifer had written a letter that somehow got damaged so the address wasn't possible to read. Despite the break in morals, Amy took the letter and opened it in case it gave a name they could go on to deliver it. It didn't, but it gave Jennifer's new address, so Amy sent the letter back in one of her own.

From that moment on the two became pen pals. How ironic though, that the first time the two met face to face, they were taken by a man named Nathan Milbury. Taken and hidden away like lab rats to be experimented on. That was how they got their powers.

After they escaped, they were immediately met by Scott and Jean Summers, who took them to Xavier. He in turn, fully extended his hand to help the girls who could never again return home because of what they had become. They were distant and reluctant at first... then Jenn met Bobby.

"I miss Bobby..." and thus the cycle started again.

"I know, but you'll see him again. Just be patient."

That caused Jenn to go into a hysterical laughing fit. "Look who's talking!"

Amy shot the girl tied to a chair next to her own a death glare, which only caused her to laugh harder. The older one watched as Jenn laughed so hard her chair tipped onto two legs before falling over onto her back. They both only paused a moment before cracking up again.

One might think the two of them insane. Here, they had been held captive for nearly a day, and they were laughing like a couple of those hyenas Ororo talked about from back home in Africa. It was during this that Pietro decided to show up with dinner. He quickly took one look at the situation and shook his head miserably, not understanding a thing.

Pietro set the meals down before righting Jenn's chair with her still tied to it. "Why, thank you, Mr. Maximoff," she said politely as if she were just sitting down to tea with him.

Something was up with these girls, he could feel it. They were acting way too cheerful and nice to him. Even Amy, who had taken to loathing him at every opportunity she got, was smiling at him.

"Um..." Jenn started, blushing a little bit. "Might I be able to make a trip to the lav'?"

The young man before them grumbled an agreement before untying the girl and letting her go to the adjoining lavatory. While she was in there, he set up Amy with her food, allowing her to eat but not do much else.

"So... You coming around?" he asked her.

"Coming around to what?"

"To the fact that you are madly in love with me," Pietro stated smugly, clearing enjoying time alone with one of the girls of his fancy.

At that moment, Amy was presented with a few options. One: To laugh heartily in his face. Two: To play along and hope it gained her an advantages. Or three: To just simply ignore what he said and continue chugging down the water brought to her.

Best bet was a combination of Three and Two, with One to come up later on. "Well... I must admit... You are quite handsome."

"I knew it! I knew you couldn't resist!" In the blink of an eye, the speed demon disappeared then appeared with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. Once he popped the cork, he poured the bubbling substance into the two glasses.

Amy had to admit, what she said was true. He was handsome. But he was also a self-glorified pervert. Then again... So was Remy once she thought about it. Only thing Remy had going for him over Pietro was more charm and the fact he had yet to kidnap her. Despite his poor upbringing, once he had teamed up with Lensherr, he became a gentleman overnight. Pietro had caught on quickly to the ways of the upper class.

He held up his glass in a toasting gesture, to which Amy copied to the best of her ability despite being tied down. "Lemme fix that," he said, then loosened her straps even more so she had more free movement of her arms. "To our wonderful relationship which begins tonight."

They tapped their glasses together with a _clink_ and drank a sip of the champagne.

"Or..." he mused, "it could always begin right now."

Not noticing the sound of a door opening, Pietro moved closer to Amy and placed a hand on her thigh. It was true what they said about him, not a damn thing about him was slow, even his hormones. His hand trailed up closer to her waist while he leaned forward.

"Ahem," someone cleared their throat loudly behind them, killing what moment Pietro thought they had. As it was, Amy had been just about ready to smash the bottle of champagne onto his head.

Pietro turned and glared at his sister, who was standing there smugly, knowing full well what she had interrupted. "Where's the other one?"

As if on cue, Jenn emerged from the lavatory and retook her place on her chair, waiting for Pietro or Wanda to tie her to it.

Amy silently thanked Wanda for stopping her brother. He had been putting the moves on her and Jenn since he'd taken them. And even then, when she was hardly awake and in no condition to do anything but moan in protest, he had tried. Thankfully, slipping back into unconsciousness stopped him from going any further.

If there was going to be any better time, now would be it. Wanda was busy tying Jenn back up, and Pietro was probably busy thinking of the different ways he could currently kill his sister.

The mutant closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them and peering over the edges of her black sunglasses. Her florescent eyes that usually changed color with her emotion, started shifting randomly until the colors where bright flashes in between white. Her perceptual vision changed to darken the contrast of everything in the room, save for electricity. Even the static in the air glowed slightly in her vision.

The stronger currents running to power the lights of the room were what she focused on. Slowly at first, the currents became brighter, stronger, until they escape the wires and continue on a lightening quick path of her will. Right to Wanda and her brother's unsuspecting forms. They didn't even have time to act until they were hit with the powerful jolting electricity, still streaming from the walls in forceful currents, lighting up the otherwise dark room so powerful that Jennifer was forced to squeeze her eyes shut against the retinas burning power.

When it was over, the twins lied unconscious on the floor and the lights decided to illuminate the room once more. "I should've done that sooner... Jenn, you okay?"

"Uh..." was all she responded with.

Oops... she had forgotten about her friend's intolerability to violence. "Jenn, I need you to snap out of it and get me untied."

Still nothing, Jenn was staring at the two forms on the floor. It took a few hops of Amy tied in her chair to get close enough to kick her friend.

"Ow!"

"Welcome back. Will you please untie me? The sooner you do, the sooner you can return to Bobby."

If anything would snap her out of any state, it was the mention of Bobby's name. Or anything related to ice for that matter. On their own personal tour, one of the officers had mentioned iceberg warnings, which had sent her friend into a happy daze for a good hour.

"Bobby?" she breathed out.

"Yes, Bobby. Now untie me."

Shaking her head some to clear it up, Jenn set to work in doing just that. "What about them?" she asked, regarding the Maximoffs.

"Leave them," she declared, stepping over the bodies and heading towards the door. "Only..." she paused. "We'd better take the food."

Without wasting any time, the two friends grabbed their meals and exited the room that reeked of burnt flesh and ozone. The twins would not be happy when the woke, especially when they found out what bad hair days they were destined to have for a while now.

It only took a moment of being outside to determine they were on B-Deck. Each of the first class area of the decks were decorated differently, which made for easy identification.

"We should go up to Xavier's," Jenn stated, already heading in the direction of the Grand Staircase. She was practically running, so anxious to meet with her loved one again and let him know she was alright.

True love could sometimes be a pain in the ass, especially when one was forced to worry about the other. But hell, it was all worth it when they were together. Since she had only met Remy on the ship, their relationship wasn't nearly as devoted as Jenn and Bobby's was. But they were working on it, even through the differences in class. Xavier was considering asking Remy to join them once they reached America, which would be a good thing for Amy. Very good indeed.

**April 14th, 1912  
****9: 25pm**

He couldn't believe it. He just could not fucking believe it! Who did she think she was? He was trying to protect her, to help her, and she blew him off. Sure, she really didn't want to, but the words still came from her mouth!

Logan had already pulverized the petty excuse for a punching bag in the gym, so he was currently beating the shit out of his suitcase. His knuckles bled and cracked at the force against the hard casing, but he didn't care. The wounds just healed up and blood could be wiped away. The smell of it only fueled his rage that had been locked away for too long on this trip.

When he had returned to his room, Jean intervened, sensing something was wrong with him. After suggesting that Logan meditate to calm himself, and seeing how that only made the outcome worse, she had sighed and pleaded with him to at least not destroy anything that wasn't his, then made a discreet exit. Some non-primal part of Logan's brain had for the moment complied with that one request.

Otherwise all lamps would be in pieces on the floor, new holes would be driven into the walls, chair legs would be shattered to pieces, among other damages Xavier was getting tired of paying for. Probably not as tired as Logan was of Scott's little prissy speeches, but tired enough to perhaps reconsider having Logan in the first class areas.

It was late, and most people would have been in their rooms. So Logan decided to go down and find some steerage person or crewmember to fight with. Get the adrenaline pumping and the pain flaring, and the gratifying feeling of kicking someone's ass.

Once he got down to the lower decks, he found not a soul. Not even a party like the night before was being held, everyone was gone. Like a ghost ship. It was such an eerie feeling of loneliness and silence despite the louder hum of the engines and boilers and everything down there, that he began to wander aimlessly as he thought about the situation.

Not until he heard the unnatural splashing did he break himself out of his train of thought. A place he had been spending way too much time in recent days.

For a brief moment he was lost, until he saw the sign just outside the door that read: 'Swimming Bath'. Which was odd... why would there be splashing from the indoor pool at this time of night? It should have been closed.

Logan recalled the pool from the tour he had followed earlier in the day, so he knew the hours. And now was not one it would have been open for. Curiosity taking place of his anger, he stealthily opened the door and slipped inside unnoticed.

The room was warmer than the others, installed with heating elements in order to keep the water in the pool from getting nearly as cold as the water outside the ship. It felt rather nice compared to what he had just been in. Logan had been wishing he hadn't discarded his jacket earlier while pounding his defenseless suitcase.

His hazel eyes scanned the brightly lit room, the water reflecting the light even more. But it was easy to tell there was one lone occupant in the room. Or, in the pool for that matter. Lazily swimming about at their own pace.

Not wanting to disturb the person just yet, Logan sneaked to a corner and crouched down, observing the form in the pool from behind a version of the deck chairs.

God had never really been on Logan's side. In fact, he got the feeling he did something prior to his memories that must have really pissed the Big Guy off, and then continued to do so even afterwards. Every now and then the Big Guy must wake up and say 'Hmm... I think I shall fool around more with that Logan chap... His life isn't screwed up enough as it is.'.

Then there were the moments he thought that maybe God's secretary or delivery boys screwed the order up wrong when things go right or good in his life for a change.

This was one of those times.

Marie Darkholme was the one in the pool.

And not only was Marie Darkholme in the pool. Marie Darkholme was _naked_ and in the pool.

Dear fucking God... he must have done something right for a change. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out what, but he didn't care. The most beautiful thing he had ever seen was currently swimming in a pool. He couldn't smell any nervousness off of her about getting caught. Just frustration and sadness.

His mind wandered just as much as his eyes did over her glistening body as she moved, creating ripples around her as the water parted to her command. Skin be damned, only still getting over the shock was keeping him from jumping into the water and making his thoughts into reality.

A loud noise that sounded like wood being dragged across wood made him wince in pain. Marie gasped and looked around, now afraid of perhaps being caught. Her eyes settled upon the form hiding behind a deck chair in the corner before letting out a slight screech as she made a desperate swim for where her discarded robe lay.

It took Logan a moment to realize he'd been spotted, and even longer to realize it was he himself who had made the noise. One hand was placed against the chair in front of him, which must have caused it to move against the wooden floor.

"Who are you!" Marie demanded, failing miserably at keeping her voice steady while she tied her robe shut.

There was no way for Logan to continue to stay hidden, nor to make a run to the nearest door. It would give her enough time to see who it was, then she'd hate him even more. Taking a deep breath, he slowly stood on his two feet. "It's me, Marie."

"Logan!" she gasped with surprise. Quickly overcome though, she spouted back at him, "How dare you follow me!" Her words echoed throughout the pool area that desperately needed something to absorb the sound.

"I didn't follow you," he admitted. "I was wandering and heard someone in here."

"So you decided to spy on me?" She had once again turned around in order to put on more clothes than just her robe.

"I... well..." he had no good answer for that one. Remembering what the last thing she said to him was, he quickly started for the nearest exit when her voice stopped him.

"Wait! Logan, please... I... I didn't mean what I said before... My parents, they..." she had turned to face him again, unaware that her robe was open and showing quite a bit of her bare chest.

"They made you say it?" he asked, taking a few steps closer to her dripping form.

She bowed her head and shut her eyes in defiance. "Yes..." came out as only a murmur. "I didn't mean it. I don't want it... Logan..." the words caught in her throat when she could feel his breath upon her wet skin. He was so close to her, she didn't even need her eyes open to know that.

His voice was a whisper of warm breath against her. "What do you want, Marie? And don't think about your parents or your duties. What do you want yourself?"

"I..." She opened her eyes when he cupped his hand underneath her chin and forced her head up to look at him. In those eyes she saw everything she had ever dreamed of, hoped for, and long thought she would be denied. In his eyes, she found herself at home. She found undying love staring back at her. Gentleness amidst the harsh exterior that was Logan. Things she had never seen in anyone else, not even Graydon. Certainly not even Graydon. "I want you..."

In a rage of blinding passion, Logan wrapped his arms around her and brought his lips to hers in a searing kiss. A kiss that spoke of desire, need, passion, and above all, reality. Never had they thought a kiss could be so sweet yet so savage, to make them feel as if they were floating on air.

But that all changed in a moments time. Logan felt his whole world begin to spin wildly out of control, ending only with Marie's scream and the engulfment of cool water that greeted him.


	8. April 14th, 1912 -- Iceburg, Right Ahead...

**April 14th, 1912  
****9: 56pm**

Something was wrong... Something was very, very wrong...

So wrong that Marie was only certain about one thing: She was going insane.

It was true, there were no doubts there that she was insane. Insane like her stepmother perhaps. No other reason could explain what she was experiencing, what was going through her head. And being carried in a sack over some extremely stinky guy's shoulder gave her a lot of time to think on the subject of insanity.

God... she hoped Logan was alright. Some big, hairy, and quite beastly looking man had interrupted their wonderful kiss and punched Logan with such force in the head. She had screamed as she saw her lover fall unconscious into the water before a sack was placed over her by someone behind and she was being carried through the ship. Her silence was only kept because they told her they would go back and make sure Logan was dead if she didn't do what they said.

Then there was that annoying part of her brain that was growling and snapping things at her, trying to get her to fight back despite what they told her. It didn't make sense, nor the memories that fluttered into her mind during the searing kiss with Logan. It was like she knew what he was thinking, feeling at that moment too. Not to mention a few flashes of fighting in bars, stalking some wild animal, or other things that she should have no memory of because she'd never done them.

It didn't make any sense and it was slowly driving her crazy.

She whimpered softly in the bag, unsure of what to do. More than anything, she wanted to keep Logan safe. But that small part of her brain that acted so much like him didn't want that. He wanted her safe, he wanted her to fight.

New memories came to surface. Memories that had occurred on the ship. He was talking to Xavier and that red haired lady, the one Marie had always seen with her husband with the red sunglasses.

_Xavier smiled. "You will, Logan. You will. I know that Erik has plans for her, but I've still yet to determine exactly what they are. From what Jean has told me, there are other things. When your double assaulted Marie, he never touched her skin to skin. That, along with the fact that her parents never let her touch another human being arouses some interesting questions_."

Her skin? Why the hell would anyone be talking about her skin? And Erik... Erik Lensherr, the man that always sat with her family. The man filled with pain yet determination, and not all of it good.

She and Logan had kissed and nothing had--

"Oh, shit..." she murmured, her eyes widening at her choice of words that she never would have used before.

"Shut up," a man growled at her.

Oh shit... Oh shit, Oh shitty shit, shit-shit. Something had happened when they kissed. There had been this rushing feeling after a little bit, then the feelings and memories that weren't hers had come flooding in.

There was the sound of a door opening, then another person joined the duo. But at least this one didn't reek to high hell, unlike the others. Hadn't they ever heard of something called a bath?

"This would have been so much easier had you not gotten involved with Xavier's new puppet," said a female voice. The voice was cold, yet still not normal. Marie couldn't place what her voice sounded like, but it was in no way supposed to sound like it did.

"Where is he?" asked the one holding her, his voice held a thick English accent.

"Dealing with the incompetent twins. The girls escaped. But no matter now, let's bring her to Creed's room."

She was shifted uncomfortably around before they continued down the hall to another room. Things had just gone from bad to worse in Marie's mind. Nothing made sense.

Thankfully, it was a short trip. There would be some nasty bruises for sure as it was. They put her down and took off the sack. Taking a moment for her eyes to adjust, she viewed her assailants. One was the big man from one of the dinners, the other his partner. And the third...

Green guy had to steady her as she felt herself about to faint again. The third was her father.

Where had the woman gone? And why was her father standing there and not doing anything about it!

"Don't pass out on us, Marie. We need you conscious," the man that looked like her father told her. "You are going to go into this room, and you are going to touch Graydon. You are going to continue touching him until his lifeless corpse falls from your hands."

This wasn't happening... This wasn't happening... This wasn't happening...

"Logan is in my people's custody. And they are just waiting to hear the order to kill him."

At the mention of Logan's name, Marie took a guess at something and searched through her brain, focusing on the ever more growling and ordering part of it.

She needed answers fast, and that was the best place to look.

_Teasing Scooter over how flirtatious his wife is_.

_Standing in a deep forest, staring numbly at three bone claws sticking out in between her knuckles_.

_Beating the shit out of the next hapless victim who stepped into the cage_.

_Scott and Jean seeking her out, talking about Xavier and mutants and his school_.

_On the ship. Talking about Marie's skin and a shapeshifter_.

It all made sense to her now. She could kill with her skin, and they wanted her to kill Creed with it. The shapeshifter... it had been her father all along, and the Logan in the Scotland Road that attacked her. She cursed herself for being as stupid as to just accept the explanation and not dwell further. Yet it didn't matter, she would never have come up with that answer in a million years.

Mutants were beings with extraordinary powers, and Creed wanted to murder them all. Maybe assassinating him wouldn't be such a bad thing.

The Logan in her head was not at all happy with that. He wanted her to escape, for fear that they would harm her after the job was done, or make her continue to work for them.

The shapeshifter knocked on the door.

Marie's hands involuntarily clenched tightly. As soon as they had, a stabbing pain shot through her knuckles. With a cry, she lifted her hands and saw bone claws much like that she had seen in Logan's memories. It hurt like hell for them to slide through her arms and out her knuckles, but the pain dulled immediately.

The big guy growled and made a grab for her, but he was slow, she was fast. With lightening quick reflexes she hadn't realized she had, Marie moved out of his grasp and slashed at the green guy before hotfooting it out of there.

The growl behind her confirmed that the big guy wasn't going to give up so easily. All she could do was pray that she would make it to safety before the big guy got to her.

**April 14th, 1912  
****11: 01pm**

"My God! What happened!" Jean exclaimed as Remy and Amy wheeled a servant cart in with a drenched Logan stuffed on the bottom.

"After Remy was told he would be fired after this crossing--" Amy began.

"Somet'in t' do wit' spendin' more time wit' de passengers den my job," Remy felt the need to add with a slight smile and wink towards his new fancy. Ever since the girls had come back, they had been inseparable from their significant others.

She blushed in response, but continued on. "Well, on our way up, we noticed the indoor pool door open. He was floating face down in the water."

"Goddess..." Ororo breathed out, helping Jenn with preparing the couch to set him on.

Immediately after Logan was unceremoniously dropped onto the couch, Jean examined him. "He's still alive, but we have to get the water out of his lungs..." Assuming full doctor-mode, Jean instructed her husband on how to do part of a technique. They rotated with their jobs, her forcing air into Logan's lungs, while Scott pumped his chest.

The display continued for a few minutes before Jean turned Logan's head as he spat out water all over the place. Water drenched everything before him as he coughed and gasped for air. "Ma... Ma..." he tried to speak.

"You just technically drowned, Logan. You shouldn't talk," Jean told him, smoothing his hair back on his face to calm him some.

"There was more, Professor," Amy began, careful to get his attention before continuing. "The scent of Ms. Darkholme and two very smelly guys still lingered in the pool area."

Xavier sat in a chair, pondering the information. "Erik's plan has begun. Kidnapping you two must have been a rouse to keep us off his trail concerning what he truly intended to do."

"Marie..." Logan finally managed to gasp out. "Let me... move, Red..."

"You need to stay here, L--"

"Fuck it!" he shouted, which caused another coughing fit.

Xavier looked over at the volatile situation. Logan was on the verge of attacking Jean if she didn't let him up. "Jean, let him go."

"But..." her protests died when the father figure spoke to her mentally. "Alright."

With shaking limbs, Logan stood on his feet. It didn't matter to him that he could barely stand, and had to use the back of the couch as support. He had to find Marie. Something had happened to her if he was there and she wasn't.

One step was all it took for Logan's form to crumple, stopped from hitting the floor only by Remy's quick reflexes. "Easy dere, homme."

Marie was in trouble, he couldn't afford to rest for even a few seconds, let alone the minutes he needed. She could already be dead for all they knew. They didn't even know what Erik wanted her for. If Logan wasn't so weak he would have punched the first thing his fist came into contact with. Violence shed off the anger and frustration, giving way to exhaustion. That was how he dealt with things.

But exhaustion had settled in without a fight, and it made Logan more frustrated. His body and Jean convinced him at least five minutes of resting would do him a world of good. In the meantime, they sent the young couples out to search for Marie. The girls could help in finding her, and the boys could help in fighting for her if need be.

Not even five minutes is what he allowed for himself. The next time he got up and walked, he ended with much better results. His body had calmed from the lack of air. So after grabbing a coat, he was ready to go after Marie. With a growl that might have been a word, he barged out of the room and began sniffing.

There was no new trace of Marie in the corridor. That didn't matter, he would go and search each deck if he had to. He would rip apart each and every room in the whole goddamn ship for her.

But his instincts were taking him to a certain destination. His feet walked him to the Grand Staircase and that's when he smelled her. It was a fresh scent... but it held fear... great fear... The scent of one of Erik's dogs, and old nemesis of Logan himself was also there.

An involuntary growl came out, startling a nearby steward into thinking twice about asking the gruff man if he needed anything. He took off like a shot, bounding the stairs, following the scent. Marie's scent got even stronger as he ran.

Adrenaline pumping through his veins, he didn't stop running to even get a clear sniff, he just followed his instincts to stay on the trail. When he had reached the beginning of the Forward Castle deck, just underneath the Bridge, he saw Marie cornered by the hairy brute near to the Cargo Bay door. The salt of her tears overpowered the salt from the ocean in the air in his senses.

The blonde beast was trailing an overgrown fingernail-like claw down her wet cheeks. Her small body trembled in fear at the man who was two times larger than her.

Logan was certain that Victor had growled something to her which made her eyes widen more in fear and a choked cry come from her beautiful trembling lips. Yet he did not hear it. His mind felt it unnecessary to know.

His mate was in danger.

The young woman he had declared as his own with a kiss down below was in danger, and he had to do something about it.

With a feral roar that sounded both human and animal, Logan rushed towards the brute, claws unsheathing in the process. Victor might have been fast, but Logan was faster as the six bone claws met their mark and embedded themselves deep into Victor's chest.

Victor howled out in pain, sounding more animal than anything else. In defense, he backhanded Logan, sending him flying across the desk and knocked so hard against the wall, Logan could have sworn he saw stars other than the ones in the sky.

For a brief moment after his senses cleared, he thought he smelled ice, but shook his head to rid himself of the fogginess.

His enemy ignored Marie and went after the still conscious threat, slashing at Logan's head, to which he ducked and stabbed at Victor's knee.

He knew it wasn't good when he felt Victor lift him up by the back of his collar and tossed him overboard. Were it not for his claws stopping him just a few feet below the deck, he would have been destined to sleep with the fishies.

As Logan struggled to get back on solid ground, he could hear Marie cry out for him. Victor turned his attention back to the girl. Knowing she was once again the target and Logan had been thrown overboard, she ran to the only place she could, farther to the bow of the ship. Her haste was halted only with what loomed before her eyes.

Just as she saw it, the warning bell in the Crow's Nest was rung.

An iceberg.

A damn huge iceberg was in front and the ship was on a direct course. Thoughts of her mother's ramblings fueled into her brain again. She was so stunned by it that she didn't react until it was too late. Victor clamped one arm around her arms and waist, the other over her mouth where he had a sleeve to keep her silent.

"Don't worry, Miss. You are wanted alive," he growled into her ear, making her shudder.

Getting himself over the railing, Logan heard one of the men in the crow's nest shout, "Iceberg! Right ahead!"

Immediately, the officers reacted above in the Bridge. Murdoch and crewmembers started yelling, "Hard to starboard!" and other orders to deal with the dilemma.

However, icebergs were the least of Logan's concern. He still had a cat to quickly dispose of its nine lives.

Marie didn't know what she feared more. The man who was holding her, or the iceberg she couldn't peel her eyes from, or worse yet... the fact that Logan was now alone in the cold sea. Tears fell from her eyes and down to Victor's hand.

Logan was gone...

The brute's tight grip weakened immensely when she heard the same sickening sound of something stabbing into someone else. She was pushed harshly against the railing and spun around to see if it could be true.

It was. Her love was still alive and once again attacking Victor with a ferocity she had never seen before. His eyes were ablaze, almost glowing red in the dark lighting, All attention was on each other as the two animals battled it out on the front of the ship.

They were fast and merciless. Marie cringed every time Victor hit Logan, and cried out in terror as one of Victor's slashes hit home, tearing a gaping hole into his neck.

"NOOO!" she screamed helplessly as Logan fell to the deck, blood gushing from the wound in his throat.

A feral grin spread across Victor's face as he watched his prey go down. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw some people rush to the level they were on. He immediately turned his attention in time to see one of Xavier's puppets remove his red glasses.

Victor was thrown against the railing at the very peak of the ship by a bright red beam, the iceberg now overshadowing any sea or stars in that direction. They were going to hit, it was a certainty.

The blast wasn't enough to knock him off the ship. Another of the men who had come pulled something out of his pocket. In a moment's time, it began to glow. Just as it started, the man threw it at Victor's feet, and the thing exploded just as the ship struck. The combined forces of the ship shaking and the explosion made the overly large man fall over the railing.

His back impacted with the iceberg with a sickening loud crack and he fell through a crevice into the ocean. Desperate for leverage, he clawed at the ship, unable to feel his legs for his spine had been broken. The claws scraped along the ship as it moved beneath them, puncturing long streaks into the ship's weak hull. He couldn't see anything, couldn't feel much in his upper torso except for the burning pain from the cold and the need for oxygen.

As the ship continued on its course, Victor was pulled away by the rushing water. With a silent cry of defiance, it sped away, continuing to push him further and further from his salvation. When that was gone, he knew there would be no hope for him. He was trapped under the iceberg and couldn't get to the surface. With one final thought, he took in the water that surrounded him.

**April 14th, 1912  
****11: 47pm**

Staring at the iceberg was all Marie could do from looking behind her. Victor was gone, there was no doubt there. But she couldn't bear to turn around and find Logan gone. It just couldn't be. The imagines of his throat being ripped out were pushed far back into her mind and locked away in a cage.

She could hear his friends behind her, perhaps trying to help him. But it was useless. No one could survive what--

No! He was perfectly alright. He was perfectly alright...

Even as she repeated it to herself, her body shook with sobs. A hand fell on her shoulder and she jumped, turning to face her new assailant.

But the waiter, Remy, is who stood before her. "Scott says he be fine, chere. Jus' give 'im time."

"F-fine?" she stammered. Logan, fine? But how...?

"Oui. But you shouldn't see, it not pretty."

She had to see, she just had to. Pushing Remy back, she ran over to where Logan lay. Scott had turned him over and was currently using his jacket to slow the bleeding. But it was true, Logan was still alive despite the gaping hole in his throat and the blood coming out of his mouth. His face didn't hold the expression that impending death usually did, just a pained calm.

Her arms wrapped around him as she buried her face in his chest, still letting Scott do what he was. Silent tears fell from her eyes, mixing with the blood already on his shirt. "Logan, don't ya' dare leave me... Don' ya' dare..." she whispered to him.

To comfort her and ensure her that he would be alright, he wrapped an arm around her waist and held her as tightly as he could. It was a great pain to breathe and his body was weakening even more at the coughing he had to do.

The couple remained like that for the few minutes it took for the worst damage to repair itself so Logan could breathe normally again. Still using Scott's coat as a bandage, he got to his feet. Marie never left him as he did, still plastered herself against him, matting the side of her face and the center of her chest with his blood yet not caring.

"Are ya' doin' better, sugah?" she asked him, noticing the endearment she used and blushing profusely.

Relief spread through her like she had never felt before when he gave her a crooked smile and nodded his head. Footsteps alerted them to someone else coming up to them. Hopefully the crew were too busy with the iceberg to really notice or care about what they had seen on the front of the ship, however doubtful it might be.

Amy peeked her head over at them all standing there. "Guys, you should come. I got a bad feelin' about this," she said, jerking her head back to indicated the iceberg now behind them. "Captain just ordered to stop the ship."

Before they followed, Logan turned to Marie and mouthed the words, 'You okay?'.

Apparently he couldn't talk yet, that part must not have healed yet. Concern shone through his eyes and she became lost in them for a moment before Logan fingered the blood on her front. "Ah- Ah'm fine, Logan. It's yers. He didn' hurt me."

Most of them returned to Xavier's quarters, but Amy and Remy went off to try and find out more information even though they already knew what was happening. The ship was going to sink, Irene's ramblings had told them that. What they hadn't known was until that moment, was if it were to be on that voyage or one years from now.

Marie felt good to be in a warmer climate and in the presence of a man whom she had come to respect for no reason. The kindness he emitted even in the crisis at hand was enough to calm her as well.

Everyone within Xavier's group had squeezed themselves into one room. Most had to stand because there weren't nearly enough chairs.

Her face paled at that thought. There weren't enough chairs like there weren't enough lifeboats.

"Now..." the Professor began, "I have brought you all here due to an emergency. The ship has struck an iceberg, despite what we are being told, it was certainly not a thrown propeller blade. Given Irene Alder's ramblings that night in the Dinning Room, I believe that it is happening."

"Should I try and create a vortex around the ship? Keep the water from getting in and transport us to safety?" the black goddess asked softly.

"No... I doubt the ship could handle it, and you would make the coming panic even worse than it will be. We all know what the outcome is going to be."

Marie graciously accepted the moist piece of cloth offered to her in order to at least wipe the blood off her face. Nothing could be done about her attire.

"Given Erik's powers, although none of us trust him," Jean mused as she checked on Logan's wounds, "Could he help if he was willing?"

Xavier sighed and shook his head. "I doubt he would be. He doesn't have much care for regular humans. Besides, I don't believe he has the strength necessary to do it."

"What?" Logan growled weakly. Marie could see that the wound had completely healed and Logan was wiping himself off and discarding his jacket and shirt.

His chest made her lost yet again, until Xavier spoke, "Erik is dying. He hasn't told me up front, but I know it. That leaves him weak."

"Then why doesn't the bastard keel over and die now? Make things a helluva lot simpler for us."

The Professor gave Logan an amused smile other than a verbal response. His eyes immediately clouded over as the did when he used his powers. "Amy's eavesdropped on a meeting being held in someone's quarters. He suspects one or two hours at most before the ship is gone."

Everyone in the room looked at one another. The situation was grave. Very grave. Bobby, who up to that moment had been as silent as Jenn, spoke up with the one question on everyone's minds. "What do we do?"

No one spoke for a minute as the each considered the question that shouldn't have been answered, for the question should not have had need to be asked. Gripped his wife's hand tightly, Scott was the one who responded. "They will follow standard procedure. Women and children shall be sent off first."

At that moment, Jean and Jennifer clung to their men, refusing to believe they would have to be parted. The door opened as Remy and Amy entered, followed closely by a steward. "Ladies and gentlemen. It is Captain's orders that you please return to your rooms, put on your lifebelts, and proceed to the Boat Deck in an orderly fashion as soon as possible." As he spoke, he opened the closet and extracted the lifebelts there, handing them to the nearest people to him.

Jennifer and Marie accepted the preservers and put hem on. Marie was in shock, but her body still complied to unconscious orders.

"Logan, Scott, Remy. You three go to our other rooms and get enough for all of us. The rest of you go to the staircase and wait," Xavier ordered.

Logan's hand on her sleeved arm snapped Marie out of her daze. "It'll be okay. We'll get you to a boat."

"But what about you?"

He gave her a reassuring smile. "If there is one thing you should have learned about me by now, is that it's damn hard to kill me."

"Logan? Could you help me get my mother and two servants on a boat as well?"

The door before him opened and he went inside, grabbing the lifebelts. "Your mother?" Although there was still no indication that Irene Alder used her powers on purpose to help Erik and the like, he still felt uneasy about returning her to her room. "I'll get them. I don't want you anywhere near them."

"Okay..."

"Here, go with Remy and stay by him until I meet with you again. I'll help your mother and servants," he said as he left, only stopping for enough time to hand her the preservers.

Marie watched sadly as he left her standing there. She wanted to cry, to beg him to stay with her, to never leave her again. But she knew he was doing it for her safety and was willing to accept that. They would meet up again in a little while and she would latch onto him and refuse to let go, even if it meant her not getting on one of those boats.


	9. April 15th, 1912 -- A Precarious Situati...

**X X X X X**

Scott returned to Xavier's quarters with two lifebelts, a third he had already donned himself. Jean put on hers numbly. She had turned her emotions off to help strengthen her mental shields. Her mind and heart were cold to what was going on around them, otherwise she would surely drown when the panic gripping the ship's inhabitants grew.

The Professor simply stared at the white floatation device and handed it back to Scott. "Professor?" he inquired, refusing to take it back.

"Give it to someone else," he replied with a tinge of sadness. "I think we all know that there is no way I am getting off this ship."

A crack opened in Jean's emotional defenses and her eyes started to shed tears. "But... Professor, we need you!" she cried out, unbelieving that the man who was like a father to her and mentor was going to just give up so easily.

Xavier got to his feet and waddled over to Jean, taking a seat once again, beside her. "Jean... Scott... You two were my first students, and I am grateful to have taught you both. I wish things were different, but they aren't." He ran a comforting hand down her back and gave her a tender smile. "I will always be with you. You both can do fine without me, and you will."

They both jumped as Scott banged his fist against the wall in frustration, resting his head against it afterwards. "It's not fair... You can still do so much--"

"I will not take the place of a woman or a child on one of those boats," he declared sternly, forcing them to drop the issue. He gave Jean a hug and she kissed him on his bald head. "I shall miss you both."

"I understand, Charles..." The redhead told him once she had gotten a hold of her emotions again. It was very rare that she ever called him by his first name. Only during extremely emotional and distressing times, or when they were having one of their heart to heart talks.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Scott taking off his glasses, his eyes squeezed painfully shut as he wiped them and his glasses. Xavier rose to his feet once more, using his crutch to navigate to the one he thought of as a son.

"Scott..." he said softly, checking to make sure Jean wasn't eavesdropping on their conversation. What he wanted to tell the boy was something he didn't want anyone else to hear. "I want you to promise me, Scott, that no matter what happens... You will get off this ship. They are going to look to you and Jean now, and you must get off the ship if our dreams are to survive."

"But..." he started, exasperated. "But, there's no possible way I could--"

"I'm certain you will find one," Xavier interrupted, not wanting him to think for even a moment that it was hopeless. "There's bound to be more than a few ways other than bribing or forcing that a man can get off.

"Profess--" he sighed, "Charles... You only begun training me in taking over the school this year. I'm not ready. I can't do it without you."

"You have been ready for years, Scott. With your great leadership, and the letters I left in one of my desk drawer, you will succeed. The letters are words of good-bye and wisdom for each of you that I have known long enough to write them for." Despite his exterior calm, his heart and voice were breaking at knowing those were the last words they would know him by. So much he had to leave unsaid in those letters, because they simply would have been far too long. Each were many pages front and back in length as they were. "Promise me, Scott," he pleaded.

"I promise..."

It was obvious by then that the room had a slight tilt to it. Nothing major, but ever so slanted. Jean got up and both her and Scott hugged the old man tightly with Jean placing another kiss on his head. "Go on, find a way off. I shall be in the First Class Lounge, though I don't want to see you or the others there again." Although he tried to fight it, a single tear rolled down his cheek because the others would not get a chance to say good-bye to him, and there was no way he could use his powers to do it.

"We all love you, Charles," Jean whispered to him, not trusting her voice any louder. "We always will."

Charles watched with a breaking heart as his children left. He stared in silence at the empty room for a few minutes before making the long trek to the Lounge, where he knew an old friend was waiting for him.

Indeed, that old friend was sitting calmly at a table in the Lounge, smoking a cigarette and staring at a bottle of bourbon on the table. Xavier didn't fail to notice the two glasses sitting there with some of the liquid in it.

Xavier took the unspoken and unacknowledged invitation to sit across from the man and took a sip of the strong liqour.

Erik lifted his eyes to meet Charles' as the corners of his lips twitched upwards in a smile. "I knew you would seek me out."

"Might we just talk as if we were the friends we were once?" Charles asked, although he already knew the answer.

Erik Lensherr nodded his head, and the two became friends once again, at the end of both of their lives. Talking about everything and nothing at all as if the ship they were on was not sinking from under them.

**X X X X X **

Graydon Creed had called him to a meeting a while ago. Ever since he'd gotten to the man's quarters, he has done nothing but pace. Not even acknowledged his presence. But Henry Gyrich could be a patient man, and knew well how not to disturb Creed when he was pacing.

Gyrich sat comfortably in his chair, watching the man only a few years younger than him wear a trench in the carpet while he thought. About what, was the only thing keeping Gyrich himself occupied.

He combed his short brown hair back, though it just fell back to where it was before. His brown eyes peered behind a pair of glasses. Almost thirty, and already in lenses. It was a pain, but one he had to deal with. The one good thing going for him was that not only was he in incredible shape, he looked almost ten years younger than he really was. No one would believe he was older than Creed, even if they showed their birth certificates.

Gyrich was one of those guys that had done practically everything. He first started working in a small diner, then moved to a store clerk. After being robbed, he went into the police force, and from there he worked his way quickly to a U.S. Senator's personal assistant. Senator Kelly, to be exact.

That was going to be his career for life. Until Creed came along. With money and just a little bit of persuasion, Creed hired him away from Kelly to work for him. His investigative skills along with his police force training were something he was highly interested in and was willing to pay nearly double the amount Gyrich was making on a government salary.

"I have a plan I need your help carrying out," were the first words Graydon uttered to him. And even then they were far away, his mind still thinking it through. Gyrich had seen his employer this way before, it usual proceeded one of his madman rages. Something had pissed him off, royally.

"Say it, I'll do it," Henry declared as an assurance that he wasn't in any way, shape, or form going to back out now. Creed wasn't the most respectable of people, nor the most liked -- not by a long shot. He had many enemies, not all of them mutants. That was another area Gyrich came in to deal with.

"My fiancée... My own fiancée... How could I have been so blind? So trusting?" Creed rambled on, perhaps even forgetting that Henry was there.

"That freak of nature bitch will pay for making a fool out of me!"

Whoa... Henry hadn't even seen that one coming. Apparently, his little bride-to-be was a mutant. Not a good thing, for her at least. He tugged lightly at the stupid lifebelt he had to wear. Oh yeah, the ship's dilemma. Perhaps he should be paying more attention to that? However he had been assured that it was nothing serious, the engines were still dead. And until they started again, he would not be at ease.

"I want her dead. I don't truly care how, I just want the bitch dead! And her family too. They must have known the truth--" Graydon paused and his eyes went wide.

"What?" Henry asked, too damn curious to keep silent.

"They did know... The mother -- Irene... The night we met she had a breakdown, proclaiming that the ship was going to sink..." Their eyes locked as the unsaid words settled into their brains. Her family were mutants, and they had purposely done everything for a reason. Indeed, they all would pay.

Gyrich sat and listened intently as his employer's plan poured from his lips.

**X X XX X **

The crowd in the Grand Staircase was so thick, Marie was close to having a panic attack. Without gloves on it left her hands exposed, and knowing now what her skin could do, it was traumatizing for her to wait in a packed area. She was so thankful when some of the people left to go outside to the Boat Deck finally.

Logan had yet to return. She knew it would take a while for him to get her mother there and get her in one of the boats. But patient was not something someone could be given the circumstance.

At least she was being guarded on all sides by the women. Ororo, Jenn, and Amy had each formed a perimeter around her and were pushing away people who strayed too close.

The girls had started some form of a conversation, if just to keep their minds from wandering too far. They were trying to figure out how to get the men onto the boats.

"Well, I won't be on one," Ororo stated. "I'll use my powers so I don't take up a space."

Marie vaguely heard the goddess explain that her powers were that of controlling the weather. Someone she knew had spotted her in the crowd and was making his way near her. Someone with a tuff of perfect brown hair whom she didn't want to deal with, but knew she had to.

"Marie, at last!" Graydon said as he got up to them. "I have been searching everywhere for you."

The girls didn't let him near her, for which she was silently thankful. He narrowed his eyes in confusion. "This is my fiancée, you can let me see her."

"I-it's alright..." she stammered out, knowing she had to get it over with sooner or later. And now was a better time, in front of a crowd.

Reluctantly, the girls move just to let Graydon near the girl with the poisonous skin. But none of them moved beyond arms reach of the man.

"Marie, my darling... We must get you to a boat." He tried to take her hand in his, but she pulled away quickly.

Something caught her eye just to the side of Graydon. Jenn was holding a pair of gloves, possibly snatched from someone else. Gratefully, Marie took them and put them on. "Are you cold, my dear?" Graydon asked with concern.

"A little..." Which was true.

"Come, let us get you a coat," he began to lead her away.

But what if Logan returned while she was gone? She couldn't go. "No, no, that's alright..."

"I insist. I do not want my bride-to-be freezing out there. Come." Well, if she went, then the girls would still be there to tell Logan. And it would be freezing out there without a proper coat. Plus, maybe she would meet up with Logan in her quarters.

As soon as the two went down the staircase and walked into the corridor that would lead to Marie's room, something very hard was pressed into the small of her back. And Graydon's grip on her arm tightened immensely.

She gasped at his force, confused for the third time that night. A new personal record.

"Do you think I didn't see that little show you put on right outside my door?" he whispered harshly into her ear, everything about him had changed. Just like everything had changed when she met what she thought was Logan down in the Scotland Road. Only this couldn't be the shapeshifter, he didn't have the scratches on his cheek.

Logan's memories served her purpose once again. Graydon Creed despised as deeply as a person could people like her. Mutants. He must have seen the claws. And the knowledge that he had been destined to marry a mutant had sent him over the edge.

"Graydon, what are you doing?" she demanded.

"Simple. I'm going to make sure you, and those others I saw, don't make it off the ship. Especially that little skank you seem to have become so fond of."

Marie gasped again. "How did you--"

The demented man cut her off with a chuckle. "I have my sources."

She silently cursed herself for not defending his honor. Though the Logan in her head didn't care what the pansy called him, he just wanted to rip the guy to shreds for what he was doing to Marie.

"Come now, my dear," he said sarcastically. No more kindness showed in his voice, only complete and utter hatred. "I know just where to go."

**X X X X X **

God, it was cold. And things were taking too damn long. But with the ship slightly tilted, Marie's mother stumbled far more frequently and made things move even slower. The two girls and one guy servants were bustling about, getting things prepared and getting Irene ready.

When Logan had gotten to Marie's room, he was greatly disappointed that her 'father' wasn't there. He had been hoping to gut the bastard. One of the girls, Kitty, if he remembered correctly, had grabbed a coat that was certainly Marie's. That was good, she would definitely need it.

The servants were so nervous, their powers were going out of control. Kitty phased through a chair when she bent to pick something up, Jubilee had fried more than one thing in the room. And St. John was absentmindedly playing with his lighter. Well, at least he kinda knew what they could do now.

"Let's go," he ordered gruffly once Irene Alder was ready to go out to the Boat Deck. He linked an arm with her to help steady her when she lost her footing. Being blind and on a sinking ship had to be hard for her, mutant or no.

The girls followed closely behind, the boy staying behind. Logan didn't like that one bit and growled at the kid to join them.

"No, I have to wait for Mr. Darkholme to return," he said with a faint Australian accent.

"Kid, I doubt he's gonna return to his room. Now get your ass behind us."

The young boy hesitated, not sure whether to test the growly man or to disobey his employer. Given the circumstances, there was a good chance Logan was right, and Darkholme wouldn't be returning, instead waiting for them to take Irene and Marie into the lifeboats.

Logan only continued once again when the boy -- St. John, he was called -- fell into step behind them. He got them to the Grand Staircase as quickly as he could, highly debating if he should just carry Irene, it would get them there faster.

The beauty of the place escaped him for once, crowded with people as if they were simply heading for dinner. Had it not been for the lifebelts, Logan would have thought he'd gone back in time. People were chatting away as if nothing was happening.

However, a certain group of people caught his attention. And the look on their faces meant that something had happened. Ororo volunteered to tell Logan, since she was the most logical choice next to Jenn, but she refused to be the one. For once in her life, both Jenn and Ororo were afraid to deal with Logan.

After looking around the room, he immediately knew what it was about. Marie wasn't there.

Maybe God had cut him a fucking break for a little while when he saw her swimming naked in the pool, but he was making up for it tenfold.

"Graydon Creed came and took her away. She said that she would be alright, but Amy followed. He knows she's a mutant and is going to kill her," the whether goddess whispered to Logan, so not to upset Irene or the servants.

"What the fuck are you all doing here standing around," he growled back, his temper rising. To protect the woman's delicate arm that he was holding, he let go of it.

"Amy and Remy followed. We can take Mrs. Darkholme and the servants to the Boat Deck."

He trusted Raptor -- a nickname Amy had earned for her ferocity and swiftness in a fight, must to his body's pained remembrance -- to not let Marie come to harm. And since the Cajun had managed to help blow Victor off the ship, he wasn't that bad either.

Using his sense of smell, he blocked out all of them except for Marie. Her scent still lingered heavily in the air despite the other people. His animalistic nature wanted to unleash itself, to go berserk until he found his mate again. But that wouldn't help her at all. Using that scent as a guideline, he began to track her throughout the ship.

**X X XX X **

It was downright freezing outside. The moon provided no light to see by, making the ocean look like vast emptiness surrounded them. A dark obvlivion to which a lifeboat was being lowered into. Nothing but the stars shown up in the sky.

For Marie's bidding, Bobby and Scott carefully helped Irene Adler Darkholme into one of those boats. Followed closely by two of her servents. St. John passed for young enough to still be determined a child, although Bobby bet he wasn't any younger than himself. The Asian one had decided she needed to go back for something and would catch another boat.

With the way the crewmembers were acting about the two men helping the blind woman on board, Scott didn't want to press his luck by asking if he could board as well with this group. Jean was not going to be happy with him deserting her, but it was what had to be done.

Scott turned to his wife of three years. It nearly killed him to see her in such a state. Her cheeks were wet with silent tears, her eyes dull to the world around her. A crisis situation was hard enough for a regular person, who had to listen to the other people involved. But it must have been hell for a telepath, he could also feel them. Feel their true emotions as they projected them without a care. It was a wonder why she hadn't lost it already, her shields weren't nearly as good as Xavier's---

No, he couldn't go there. Couldn't think about that. He was their leader, their new father figure now. He had to set an example and be the strong one. Although for appearances, Ororo seemed to be holding it together even better than he was. If he didn't make it, then she could defintely help to take over. It would not die with him.

"Jean, I--" She looked at him, more tears falling at knowing that this might mean good-bye. The cheery tune the band was playing made everyting seem wrong. There was so much he wanted to tell her, so much he wanted to show her. It was so unfair how life could cheat you out of your promise to grow old with someone. To spend your last days just basking in their love. But sometimes it cut that horribly short, and didn't allow you time at all. He supposed he should be thankful he did have some. "I love you, Jean... No matter what happens, I will always love you..."

He sealed those words with a passionate kiss, and let all of his feelings of love flow out of him and towards her, so she would feel them even through her shields. Such a connection between them made him proud. "No matter what, I will always love you too, Scott..." she whispered in response, not trusting her voice any louder.

Jean refused to cry when the officer pulled her away from her husband, the man she should have spent her whole life with. She refused to cry when they placed her in the lifeboat, seperating her forever. Her heart broke inside, but she didn't let it show. She had to be strong for Scott, he needed her strength now. She could let it go once they were away, when he couldn't see her, couldn't hear her. And maybe he wouldn't be able to feel her that way.

His gaze behind his red glasses, though impossible to see, she knew never left her face as other women and children were loaded onto the boat with her.

**X X XX X **

Marie had never been so cold and frightened in her life. Her body was trembling uncontrolably. Graydon had brought her to the indoor pool down below. Brought her and tied her there before leaving with an evil grin. He had told her how he wanted to watch her die, but he felt it better to safe his own measily hide instead. Okay, so not exactly in those words, but that was pretty much the jist of it.

Water had already seeped through to ankle deep at least, there were traces of it when Graydon had brought her, and not all of it was from the pool. It was slow rising, so maybe that was a good sign. But if her schooling had taught her right, the more water the ship took, the faster it would take it. Marie couldn't budge from the chair she was tied to, and her feet had gone numb from the cold water. Graydon had done a good job, no matter how much she tried, the rope held tightly. And the gag in her mouth was almost choking her.

Within a few minutes of just waiting there, the water had risen to her knees. Things were looking very bad.

It was when she heard voices that her hopes began to rise with the water.

"Shit! I hate the cold! I hate the cold!" a female shouted.

"We both be southerners, why we gotta deal with 'dis?" A man's voice whom she recognized as Remy's replied.

Renewed with hope, Marie began yelling through the rag. Muffled sounds were all that came out, but she made them be as loud as she could get them. Her legs were numb and her wrists were rubbed raw against the bounds.

A moment later, the door opened and the couple waded into the room. "Hey, Marie," Amy greeted her with teeth chattering. "Couldn't you have gotten yourself tied up in a more dry climate?"

If she had been able, Marie would have responded to that with actual words other than an annoyed grunt through the gag. Remy chuckled some as he used a knife to cut her loose. "I'm thrilled you find my situation hilarious, Mr. LeBeau," she spat out once the gag was removed.

Remy started to laugh even louder until someone else burst through the door. "Marie!"

Oh, God, it was Logan. Alright, no more getting kidnapped, split up, or seperated in any way. Marie was going to permenately attatch herself to that man and never let go. Unable to trust her legs without feeling them, she allowed her love to come to her and sweep her off her feet. His mouth moved to interviene with hers, but stopped short when a man cleared his throat in the doorway.

Damn... he had just remembered her skin because of that. But that didn't mean he wasn't going to gut the man standing in the doorway holding a gun at them.

A man none of them had seen before stood in the doorway, grinning. "How touching a reunion. Pity I'm going to end it."

"What makes you say that?"

Every intent and purpose to catch the man off his guard and scare the hell out of him with that remark, worked like a charm. Before he had been so calm and sure of himself, now he was nervous. Logan could sense it. No man said those words with such passion unless they meant it.

But quickly, the man grip tightened on the gun, his confience returning. "I'm sorry, I forgot you must have a lower I.Q. Because I'm the one holding the gun."

"Who the fuck are you?"

"What does it matter? Oh, what the hell. Henry Gyrich."

Gyrich may have been a bit cocky, but Logan could tell he wasn't stupid. Every time someone even blinked, his eyes shot to that person. He was dealing with mutants whose powers he didn't know. As much as Logan wanted to intimidate the man further, they didn't have the time. Water was up to Amy's waist, and was rising more quickly.

"Perhaps you don' know me, homme. But dis Cajun is just a server at de Café," Remy said as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

"Then why are you down here?"

Remy shrugged. "Boredom? Or, could be dat dis Cajun also be known as Gambit. An' don' take too kindly to people like you." Before Gyrich could even blink, much less react to Remy's words, he flung his hand back and threw an object at him.

With a scream of pain, Gyrich's hand was pinned to the bulkhead by a dagger, the gun dropped into the water with a loud _splash_. Remy grinned triumphantely. "Who said a mutant needs t' use his powers t' do harm?"

They all at least breathed with cold relief as Logan went over and elbowed the stunned man in the face, knocking him out. His body slump down, only kept above the water by the hand pinned to the bulkhead. A fine stream of blood ran down it, turning the water nearby red.

His heightened senses picked up the groaning of the ship, and he knew they had to get out fast. "I think it's time for us to bail," Amy said aloud, echoing his own thoughts.

The two couples each ignored how frozen they were in order to wade through the cold water to the nearest stairs. Rushing water not only explained why it was rising so much faster now, but it also cut off their exit route.


	10. April 15th, 1912 -- Floodwaters

**X X X X X **

He'll be fine. She could get on a boat, he could stay, and he'll be fine. He's not called the Iceman for nothing, you know... Maybe if she kept repeating that to herself, it would make her feel less afraid. Bobby swore to his girl that he wouldn't truly leave her, that he'd be perfectly alright. When the ship sank, he'd just swim to her. The cold wouldn't do a thing to bother him.

The words comforted her some, but not a whole lot. There was still the whole drowning issue that could do him in. Jean had been lowered away already in another boat, so Scott and Bobby stood next to each other once Jennifer was pulled away. It was pointless for her to stay, other than to stay with Bobby. But there was no way he would allow it. He'd sooner force her in there than let her stay on the ship. "I love you!" she yelled at him from her seat in the small boat. A far cry from the glorious ship they had been on.

"I love you too." he told her back and blew a kiss to her. Even then, they were still acting all lovey-dovey towards each other like the young people they were.

A woman nearby had the audacity to tell the crewmember to hold the boat while she went back to her room to get something. The officer had had enough and simply picked the woman up and placed her in the boat. "She's the last! Prepare to lower!"

Scott felt himsef being pushed as someone rushed past him. A glance told him it was Thomas Andrews, demanding to know why the boats were being launched only half full.

"Good, God..." Scott whispered, unable to believe it. And unable to believe that he hadn't noticed it himself.

Someone else bumped into him. Things were getting too crowded near the edge for his tastes. He let the people past, then did a double take on who it was.

The red clad form and the white haired form were unmistakable as the Maximoff twins. Pietro was getting his sister onto the same boat. He could hear the boy say, "I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but I wish things were moving slower."

At least Jenn didn't seem to have a big problem with Wanda in the same boat, especially since they were sitting as far from each other as they could. "Hey, shades. Where's the other girl?"

Scott glared at the kid. "Probably on the other side," he hoped silently. Truth was, he didn't know. She had disappeared with the others going after Marie. His mind wandered as the boat was filled and began it's slow decent into the ocean.

"I don't care what you say, I'm getting off this bloody ship!"

Well, well, well. Looks like all of the little Brotherhood band was crawling out of the ship. Only problem was, this certain member was desperate to get off the ship. Very desperate. As in holding loaded gun and threatening people with it desperate.

The passengers and officers that could, held their hands up. Scott could see the guns the officers had, but Mortimer would be faster in pulling the trigger. However, Scott wasn't about to allow that to happen. Much less have him get on the same lifeboat as one of his friends.

With his stern, leadership voice, Scott addressed the slimy toad. "If you want on one of these boats, you'll have to go through me."

"Are you an idiot, Mortimer?" Pietro asked, shocking Scott with what he was doing. The speed demon moved closer to his companion. "There's no way you are getting on, just face it."

"Don't test me, Pietro," the British man snarled.

Another distress flare lit into the sky, distracting the small man. It was then that Pietro struck, zipping over to him and latching onto the gun. The men immediately began a tug of war with the weapon. Scott held his hand up to his glasses to fire, but the way the two were dancing around, he couldn't get a clear shot.

Other men nearby helped Pietro in trying to subdue Mortimer, who was shouting obscenities at all of them. But before they could wrestle it away, a single shot rang out into the night, frightening the nearby people and making them scream.

A sharp pain ran through shot's left leg unlike anything he had felt before. He took a step back to view his leg, to find out what was wrong. The knee gave way and Scott could feel himself falling. He knew what was to come, the incredible pain of falling into the freezing water below.

Time slowed down for him as the deck came into view, the startled faces, Bobby yelling and reaching for him even though he was far too late. At least Mortimer had been stopped, though he couldn't stop thinking about the promise he broke to both Charles and Jean.

That was his last thought as his body impacted with something soft and hard at the same time.

**X X X X X **

None of them could feel their bodies after the long trek came to an end once they got out of the water. Now they could concentrate on warming up and getting higher before where they were flooded.

Things were pretty easy going considering the numb limbs they had to work with. That was, until they reached a crowd of third class passengers, none of which appeared to be moving. Everyone was talking at once, most of which demanding some gate to be opened.

"Everyone, it isn't time to go up to the boats yet," a steward was announcing from the other side of the gate. "Please stay calm!"  
Logan let out a murderous chuckle. The ship was sinking, they were locked behind bars, what was there to be calm about?

"And gentlemen, please allow the women and children up to the front!" the annoying steward turned his attention to someone else. "Go and get some help."

Not caring about who got in his way, Logan pushed people to either side, squeezing his way up the stairwell with Marie clinging tightly to the back of his soaked coat. Many people let out a stream of curses and pushed him roughly back, but he gave them a growl and a murderous glare, so that shut them up. "Open the damn gates!" he yelled once only a few steps from his goal.

"Bring forward the women!" God, they sounded like hungry savages wanting a good piece of meat to fuck. "Unlock the gates."

Logan felt a new rush of adrenaline at those words. The gates unlocked and people began to stampede up the stairs. "No! Women only, damn you! Get back!" Only a couple of people escaped before the people were pushed back by force and the gates locked shut once again.

The people still tried to persuade the steward to reopen the gate. But Logan knew there was no chance of that happening without force. Logan pulled the few passengers in front of him back behind him and Marie. He gave the man standing in front of him the most savage glare he could and growled at him amidst the yelling patrons, "Open the fuckin' gate!"

The steward paled and stepped back in fear, holding a gun in his shaking hands. Too bad the little fucker didn't realize he had failed to lock the ammo in place, the gun was useless and Logan was tired of asking. Desperate times called for desperate measures, and he didn't care who saw. His claws popped out with a _choock_ and they tore through the pathetic excuse for a gate like a hot knife through butter.

With no lock to keep it closed, there was no way they could keep the people contained below. He pressed forward, punching the steward right in the face, knocking him out flat. Latching onto Marie's hand, they were the first two to begin running for higher decks.

The ship had a far more noticeable slant, which made Logan very worried. How much time had passed? Was it too late to get to a boat?

He wouldn't think that -- _refused_ to think that. But, face it, he wasn't one for happy thoughts in dire times. More like dreary thoughts.

Using the Second Class Stairs, they took them all the way to the Boat Deck. "There are still boats!" Marie cried with joy, apparently having had some of the same thoughts.

"Then lets get you on one," he said as he began to lead her towards the bow.

"Whoa, hold it, Mister." She pulled him to a stop. "I'm not getting on one of those unless you can too--AH! Logan!"

Quite frankly, Logan didn't want to hear it. He picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder and carried her down to the boats.

"Put me down! Logan, put me down!" she screeched and kicked at him.

"Shut up, Marie!"

Oh, fuck. She started to cry after he yelled at her. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Gently, so as not to hurt her more, he set her down in front of him and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry, darlin', I'm sorry..."

She held onto him so tightly as she sobbed, that it was hard to believe it came from such a small form. "D-don't l-l-leave me, L-ogan," she managed as her body trembled.

"Fuck, Marie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you..."

At that moment, he wasn't sure what he wanted more. To get Marie to safety, or to shut that damn band playing that far too cheerful song up by snapping their instruments and throwing them to the sea.

Logan continued to soothe Marie until she stopped crying. Right about the time that shots rang out nearby. Panic was starting to take hold. It wouldn't be long before everything fell apart once people resorted to violence. Those were just warning shots that time, but the next time, it might be aimed at the increasing crowds around the boats that were left.

They had to find a way to get them both off the ship, and fast. Before Logan decided to hell with Marie's pleadings and place her on a boat without him. True, she would hate him for the rest of her life. But at least she'd have a life to hate him by. Jean and Ororo at least would help her cope, and help her go on.

Every second that past doubled the amount of fear in everyone. As Logan looked past the hoards of screaming, desperate people, he could see that the Forward Castle was already completely immersed in water. It was sinking faster than he had originally thought.

Tugging lightly on her arm, he got Marie to follow him closer to the panicking crowds and awaiting salvation for her.

**X **

Oh, God... she hated blood... it made her sick. Wishing Jean were there wasn't going to help Scott any. He was still bleeding bad, and most of the women weren't willing to lend any help by way of clothing to stop the bleeding. Jenn had run out of skirt lining for bandages and Wanda had given up her heavy coat to keep him warm.

The bullet must have gotten a major blood line or artery or something in Scott's leg. Although she was best friends with Hank and spent a lot of time around him, she still knew next to didly-squat about what to do in a situation like this. If it was a vein or artery, it wasn't going to stop bleeding until the hole was repaired or plugged.

"Ick... ick... ick... ick..." she chanted as she removed the bandages and stuck a finger through the hole that it was bleeding out of the most. It was an entry-exit wound, but one side was worse than the other. She felt blindly with her finger to try and find where the hole was in whatever was causing the bleeding. Her efforts were hopeless as she couldn't feel a thing that she could understand, and keeping her finger in would simply make him bleed internally which was a worse thing than bleeding out.

Removing her finger, Wanda began tearing at her own skirt lining to use. "Thanks..." Jenn said, still unsure why this woman was helping. After all, she was one of the bad guys, right? Wouldn't she rather Scott died?

"Me and my brother aren't exactly what you think," the young woman said. "We don't kill."

"Only kidnap?" Jenn replied a bit more harshly than intended.

"We were told that it was only for a diversion, and that we didn't have to harm you two in any way. So we agreed and did it."

"But your brother had other intentions."

Wanda smiled and shook her head. "My brother was having fun. He never would have forced either of you to do anything you didn't want to. And if you were paying attention, he stopped Mortimer from killing anyone."

Jenn's hazel eyes cast sadly upon Scott's still and pale form. "That remains to be seen..."

**X X X X X **

For the hundreth time, Amy ran through her mind the events which led to what happened. Logan had opened the gate with his claws, people had pushed through like a fuckin' stampede. She was pulled back while Remy was pushed forward, and before she could get near the gates they had found some rope to tie it back shut with.

Remy had continued to be pushed forward by the mob and hadn't come back. Searching for another way up had only led to more locked gates and angry mobs. All the begging, pleading, threatening wasn't getting the gates opened any faster.

Now she was sandwiched between the mob in a stairwell. Unable to reach the gates, and unable to reach the corridor. Completely stuck until something happened one way or the other.

And the screaming she heard far behind her that was coming closer didn't help to calm her nerves any. She knew if people were screaming than water was coming. And water was something she wasn't very fond of at the moment, especially freezing cold water.

"You can't leave us here to die!" a woman yelled up ahead. The vocalizations of the people were getting louder and more desperate, following by a long stream of curses from everyone present to have known what just happened.

The people ahead of her pushed onward as the people at the gates fought with them. Shit... there was water coming and they had been abandoned by the crew to die. The ship was sinking faster and the people were panicking more. At the rate they were, the flimsy gate should be ripped from its snug holes in the walls in no time... and that was being optimistic.

"Ev'rybody stand back!" someone up ahead yelled at the top of his lungs.

But his shout was lost in the screams of the people at the bottom, who the water had just reached. It was surging up fast on them and Amy was pushed so hard against the person in front of her that it was difficult to breathe. They would all be crushed to death sooner than drown at this rate. Which in her mind wasn't that bad a thing.

"Mon Dieu, pardonnez-moi..."

A loud and forceful explosion propelled them all back into a heap in the corridor. Cold water stung at her skin just as the smoke stung at her eyes. She coughed and realized that her glasses had been knocked off. Not like she needed them to see, but to hide her eyes. No matter now, she had to get up before she was trampled.

The sounds of creaking filled her heightened senses. A different kind of creaking that she ship was making. This creak was the sound of a far more dangerous creak. As soon as she got to her feet, there was another explosion sound, followed by the sound of a lot of fast rushing water.

In an instant they were met by it, a good deal of the people were swept away in the current, but Amy latched herself onto the wall of the stairwell and refused to budge even as the water tried its damnedest to rip her from it.

People screamed and rushed up the rest of the stairs, or swam futilely against the current. But she couldn't dare let herself move just yet, not until the water slowed down. Her iron grip would falter if she did and she would be taken by the river.

A large piece which must have been a door hit her, cutting deep into her. She cried out in pain and fear as her grip wasn't enough against the water and the blow of the debris. Her hands clawed at the wall as she began to travel down the corridor.

But her trip was cut surprisingly short. A strong hand had latched onto hers from the stairwell and began to slowly drag her towards it. Another hand grabbed her other one and joined with the first to pull her to the safety of the stairs. Without much hesitation, she stepped over the few bodies that had caught the front of the blast, a twang of pity for the poor souls who didn't know any better than to have gotten away from the fucking gate.

She turned to thank whoever had saved her but was stopped when someone wrapped their arms around her, lifted her up and spun her around. It was Remy! And not only that, but somehow he had dragged Bobby down to help him. She was about to thank them then, but once again was interrupted, this time by Remy's lips upon hers.

She giggled amidst the kiss and returned his grip on him.

"Uh, guys... sorry to break up the love-fest here, but the water's still rising fast..." Bobby said.

Sometimes, she could just be so jealous of him. And this was one of those times. He was standing in ankle deep freezing water, and looked like he was just standing in ankle deep water at the beach. To him, it was just water. But even just water was enough to kill him.

"Here," he said before they followed Remy. He handed her his jacket, for obvious reasons he didn't need it, for obvious reasons she did.

"Thanks... for everything..." she said as she placed the jacket on her freezing body and followed Remy.

**X X X X X **

First Officer Murdoch was busy loading people into a lifeboat. There wasn't a huge mob there like further down the ship. Very few people were at this one. He yelled at the top of his lungs for any women and children to please come to him and board the boat.

Yet after a while there wasn't any more to be loaded, as Ismay informed him. They were all aft of them and couldn't hear him. Murdoch looked to the dozen or so men standing around and yelled out, "Anyone else, then!"

The men immediately reacted and got onto the lifeboat. A few of them rejoiced with their loved ones that they thought they'd be parted from.

Murdoch yelled it for a few minutes before it became clear no one else was going to board for a while. He then turned and raised his hands to begin commanding the lowering, when he saw Bruce Ismay sitting in the boat. It was not his place to do anything about it if the man had a strong desire to live, he had one himself, though he knew he wasn't getting off the ship alive.

It was then that he noticed the bandage across Ismay's cheek. Certainly it hadn't been there before when Murdoch saw him last. For a brief moment he wondered what had happened. But he had a job to do.

"Take them down," he ordered and continued to direct as the lifeboat was lowered to the ocean. For a brief moment, he could have sworn on his soon to be made grave, that Ismay's eyes had flashed yellow.

**X X X X X **

They ran to the stern of the ship, pushing people out of their way if need be. But it was too late, the remaining boat was already filled and being lowered. Only ones left were the ones they were trying to get down from their position on the roofs.

Logan shook his head as one of the collapsible ones was rocked off the edge. He knew the oars wouldn't hold, and they didn't. The boat snapped them like twigs as it fell upon them, one piece got a man in the back, sending him flying over the missing edge of the ship with a chilling scream.

Marie flinched and pressed herself more tightly into his arms. There were so many people, and so much of her skin was exposed. The last thing she needed right now was to absorb someone else, someone who wasn't taking the situation nearly as calmly as her.

As if she was taking it calmly. She was a moment away from having a breakdown. The only thing keeping her from doing so was that it wouldn't do anyone any good, least of all her and Logan. Really, it confused her to why they where there, waiting for a boat. All the officers were armed and would shoot any man who tried to board without permission. And since Logan wasn't a crewmember, there was no way they would allow him on.

It would be a little while before they got it positioned and hooked up, ready to receive passengers. The couple moved out of the way, allowing the crew to do their jobs.

Marie screamed as a door was flung open and Logan was hit hard, sent sprawling to the deck. She bent down to help him up, but was violently yanked away, pulled in through the door and to the Grand Staircase.

"Looks like Gyrich was a bad choice for this," a voice she recognized as Creed's whispered dangerously close to her neck. "But I'll finish it off."

A small cry escaped her as he yanked her again, pulling her down the stairs. Peeking over the sides, she saw that the Reception Area already held a bit of water in it. Bright turquoise water, clear as Carribean oceans.

He led her down the stairs, only pausing when a feral roar was heard overhead. Logan was pissed as hell.

Her feet splashed in the cold water that was steadily rising. Strange how not long before, she had had dinner in the area that Creed had pulled her into. No one was there. No witnesses to however he planned to try and kill her.

Try being the main word. With Logan hot on their heels, it wasn't likely to happen. Not to her anyways. But Creed held a gun, no doubt. And he might be able to at least injure Logan before the wild man could reach them.

Sure enough, a moment later Logan burst through the glass and wood doors. Marie felt herself being pressed against Creed, a gun held against her head as he held her hostage. "You take one more step towards us, AnimalMan, and you'll get to watch her brains blow out of her head."

He gripped his arm tightly around Marie's neck, making it difficult for her to breathe. If he didn't shoot first, she would certainly die from lack of oxygen.

Why did these sort of things happen to them? Why couldn't they just be left alone! Logan was right in believing God didn't quite like him. And her too, now it seemed. Logan growled in protest, unsure of what to do. He wanted to gut Creed, to make him pay for even thinking about harming Marie. But if he tried, she would die.

And if he didn't do anything, she would die, he reminded himself. So really, what choice was there?

Logan glared at Creed, and Creed glared right back. Two men who had no pity or remorse when it came to killing. No queasy stomachs or second thoughts. Both were versed well in their field. Only difference was style. Creed would go for the neater, less bloody approach with a gun, while Logan would be feral and rip the person to shreds. Both were deadly and affective.

Question was: Who would win?

The longer he waited, the harder it would be. Water was up to his knees now, which made it extremely difficult to move fast. Instead, he needed to prove to be some sort of other threat. A nearby table held the answer.

Logan lunged for it and grabbed a knife, then quickly flung it at Creed, not intended for it to hit anywhere near him for fear of hitting Marie.

The weapon did have it's desired affect though, Creed pointed his gun at Logan and shot him twice, right in the chest. He grunted as pain exploded in his chest, his body slumped over the table.

Marie screamed his name and fought against her attacker. Her strength was weak and pitiful against the much stronger man. But she had a secret defense, as much as she didn't want to use it, it was the only way. Using her bare hands, she latched onto Creed's face with a death grip.

Creed's jaw went slack and his eyes opened wide as the connection immediately opened up. His life, his energy, his mind poured into her fingertips. His veins bulged in his face, and she briefly wondered if she did the same. There was no pain for her, just a simple overwhelming rush of things. After a time, her mind screamed at her to let go, to which she obeyed. Creed's form fell from her fingers and splashed into the water.

The man remained unconscious as he was emerged in water. He had still been alive when she let go, but a few moments of breathing water and unconsciously thrashing about, that ceased to be. As soon as Creed had begun to get pissy in her brain, he shut up. In fact... it was blank where he was a moment ago.

Either that had something to do with the fact he wasn't a mutant, or that he was dead. More than likely the latter.

Immediately pushing the questions that sprang to mind, and ignoring the cold biting all the way to her bones, Marie waded through to Logan. His blood stained the hand-sewn tablecloth and he didn't move. He couldn't be dead, not after all they'd been through.

She shook his arm a little to see if it would jar a reaction out of him. Yet there was nothing. "Logan?" she said, but still nothing. "Logan, answer me, sugah..."

"Okay... I'll answer... ow..."

Marie couldn't help it, she really couldn't. She started to laugh. It was such an unmanly thing for Logan to say that it was funny to her. Maybe she had lost it, or gone into shock. Or both. Both could happen.

"Logan, we have ta' get out of here. The tables are startin' ta' float."

"Really? I thought it was just me." With a grunt of pain he stood up, the entire front of his lifebelt soaked with red.

"Oh, Logan..." Marie's eyes brimmed with tears at seeing him like that.

"I'll be fine, Marie. Just like I was numerous times before." He took her and led her back to the stairs and up them.


	11. April 15th, 1912 -- Never an Absolution

**X X X X X **

As soon as the trio had set foot out on deck, things did not look promising. Everyone was running to and fro, jumping off the ship, panic had gripped every soul left on board. Bobby and Remy used themselves as shields to part the crowds of people in order to get to the front of the ship. There just had to be some boats left.

The nearest boat they reached had a huge mob surrounding it. Each officer held a gun pointed at them, one of them being the First Officer. He was yelling into the crowd, "I'll shoot any man who tries to get passed me! Get back!"

The mob began yelling back, but it did no good. One man jumped high above their heads and landed in front of the crest they had made surrounding the boat. Murdoch immediately reacted and shot the green skinned man. Out of the corner of his eye, something else moved and he shot again. Only this time it was a young woman who had been pushed forward.

It didn't hurt that much, nor was it that bad a wound really. It had only nicked Amy's arm and was already healing. But from Murdoch's position it looked much worse. He had shot and killed man, and shot a woman. The man had deserved it, but the woman...

Murdoch looked down at the trail of blood around his feet from the man. He glanced to either side of him. The girl was looking at him with forgiveness. Strange thing was, her eyes changed colors. The others looked at him with hatred, his fellow officers looked at him with indifference. They weren't going to give away their true emotions on the situation.

How did it come to this? When had everything gone wrong? _Titanic_ was supposed to be unsinkable, was supposed to be still sailing towards New York, safe and sound.

But reality was different from fantasy. And the reality was that the ship was sinking, that he had killed a man for wanting to live and injured a woman. What more harm would he do than good? It wasn't worth it.

Murdoch stood up straight and saluted the highest ranking officer next to him. The man immediately recognized the look of calm resignation on Murdoch's face when he held the gun to his own head and cried out, "No, Wil!"

The shot that rang out made everyone present gasp and become quiet and still for a moment, before it settled in that they were still in peril and began to load the lifeboat like before.

Remy once again pushed Amy forward, constantly apologizing for getting her shot. The wound was nonexistent now, at least the physical one. However, the one in her heart continued to tear and bleed as she was forced to go. "Remy, please--"

"Don' argue wit' me, mon amour," he interrupted. Afraid that if she begged enough, he'd want her to stay. He kissed her one last time, a sweet, tender kiss that he hoped she would never forget. An officer grabbed her and pulled her into the boat while she reached out for her love, craving one last touch. They were too far separated.

The band had dispersed. Only the maestro remained. He stood there, alone, and began to play by himself. The first notes of '_Nearer My God to Thee_' began to play from his instrument. Within just a few measures, the rest of the band had returned to play along. No version they had ever heard before brought so much emotion and heart to it. They played slow and perfectly, bringing meaning out in each note. No one dared to interrupt them, not even if they were in a blind panic.

Amy was usually so good in hiding her emotions. But it was impossible for her to do so when music matching her mood was being played. Tears slid down her cheeks and sobs she tried desperately to hide racked her body. It just wasn't working, no matter what she did.

She couldn't bear to watch Remy, yet couldn't bear even more to not. He was holding people back so they wouldn't storm the boat. It was getting harder and harder for the officers to keep people back as the water rose onto the deck and around the boat she was in.

In her mind, the music drowned out the screams and the eerie groans the ship was making. In her mind there was nothing but her and Remy together. Before sailing on _Titanic_ she had been afraid of love, afraid of a relationship. Many men had tried to court her, but she had always bluntly refused. On the ship, a certain Cajun theif-turned-waiter had become a thief once again and stolen her heart, teaching her that it was alright to love.

Now, in the darkest part of her mind, she wished they had never met. The pain of losing someone you loved was far greater than the pain of losing your humanity or any injury she had ever received combined. If they had never met, she wouldn't feel like she was dying right now, that every second took a little piece of her with it.

Yet if that were true, then she would have gone throughout her whole life pushing love away. Because the one man who could break those walls she would had never met.

"There's no time!" someone yelled, breaking her little dream. "Cut those Falls! Cut 'em! Cut 'em if ya' have to!"

Remy sprang into action. Or, into the water, for that matter. A knife magically appeared in his hand and he pulled himself onto one of the ropes and began sawing at it. But Amy would have none of that. She pulled him down into the boat by his pantleg and took the knife from him.

He gazed at her in surprise and began to ask just what she was doing, when she took his place by the rope and used one of her powers.

The panic became more distant as it moved slower, shouts and screams held out much longer. The water that splashed her seemed to take forever to connect with her skin as she worked furiously on the ropes. She glanced to her side and noticed that the only thing that seemed to move normal was another man with white hair across from her. He was moving as fast as her, if not faster, but that was his power too, although how differently did it.

Pietro and Amy worked faster on the falls, cutting one, then jumping to another. Pietro was on the outside and was having to fight against the current as well. Someone who was being swept by it ran into him, causing him to lose his grip and ride along with the flow. His dagger was lost somewhere along the way, so he couldn't swim back to help them. Carefully swimming, he aimed for dry deck instead.

Amy only stopped in her sawing when the headache became unbearable and she was forced to stop, collapsing into the boat. Remy's arms circled around her, keeping her upright. "It's alright, mon amour... 'Tis alright..." he tried to calm her.

Loud creaking and groaning brought her foggy mind's attention behind the two of them. Like spring coils pulled far too taunt, the supports for the first funnel casing gave way, cutting people in half as it sprang to the water like warm string through a cheesecake. The creaking grew even louder as the funnel lost its support and began tipping towards the water. As it fell it moved faster until it impacted with the water and the unfortunate people under it.

Remy braced himself and Amy as the great waves rocked the small boat. People around them were desperately trying to climb into the boat. The added weight on one side combined with the wave tipped the boat over. They all screamed as they were met with the cold stinging of the ocean water. A few of them were trapped underneath the boat and held onto the seats they had been previously using to sit on in order to find the air to breathe.

Being tall enough, Remy put his feet down on the deck underneath the water and used his arms to try and push the boat back over. "Work wit' me!"

The other men underneath that were tall enough did the same, flipping the lifeboat and water people had undoubtedly already climbed upon it off. People lunged for the boat like ants lunge at a piece of candy dropped by a child. The Cajun climbed into it first, immediately reaching back and grabbing Amy, pulling her up.

She was nearly unconscious, no matter how she tried to fight it. Her body was just too weak from her mental exertions. In the comfort of Remy's arms, she lost the battle and drifted to sleep.

**X X X X X **

"So... How did you get involved with Lensherr, then? If you don't always agree with his methods?" Jenn asked, wanting to keep her mind off of the ship behind them and the dying man in her arms.

"He's my father, that's how," Wanda replied, sneaking glances at the doomed sea liner now and then.

"Oh..." Jenn looked up briefly in time to see the outline of something moving high above them. She knew it was Ororo. Her abilities allowed her to use the wind to make her fly, yet she couldn't control it like that with someone else. Every moment she needed to change the winds, and unless she could feel it herself, it was too hard to do.

"Oh my God..." Wanda breathed out as she stared in shock at the ship.

Although she knew she shouldn't, Jenn couldn't help but glance behind her. One of the funnels had just fallen. And the entire ship looked as if it were infested with bugs. So many people were left... and one of them was Bobby.

But he was still alive. At least at that moment. Jenn believed she would know if he was gone, or wanted to anyways. She felt like she deserved it. They loved each other more than anything, that opened up a psychic connection that would let you know if something serious was happening to your loved one, or if they were dead.

It proved to be right as Scott's breathing shallowed even more, his skin deathly pale and his lips turning purple from the cold and blood loss. As it happened, Jenn could hear a woman begin to cry even louder, and imagined it to be Jean. Sure, she was a real psychic, but she would have defenses up in order to not hear the people on the ship. Still, that connection she would have with her husband would still be there, and she could feel it slipping away.

"Come on, Scott... hang in there... For us... For Jean..." Jennifer pleaded. "You hang in there too, Bobby," she whispered in a prayer to whoever would listen.

**X X X X X **

There was no way they could get near one of the remaining boats. Once the funnel fell, Logan lost all hope of that. _Titanic_ was sinking fast now, and didn't have much time left. "Come on!" he yelled to Marie above the shouts and pleas of the crowd. He pulled her out of the rising water and began dragging her to the stern of the ship.

At that moment, that was the only direction anyone was going other than down, off the ship. Logan knew better than that and pushed past the crowds, keeping a firm grip on the girl behind him. She stumbled a few times in her shoes, but he kept her upright.

If Logan thought the people were being noisy then, as soon as the lights went out on the ship, they were ten times worse. Darkness always made things worse. With nothing but the stars to light them, it was nearly impossible to see five feet in front of them.

People were ignoring the stairs and just climbing over the ship to get to the back. It was a good idea, so they follow suit. Logan let go of Marie to jump down a particularly high piece, then turned and helped her down. "We've got to move faster!" Marie yelled as she looked behind her.

The more they moved to the back, the more difficult it became to do so. Their feet slide on the smooth boards and Logan grabbed onto one of the stairway rails, pulling them up on them. The mob moved like the sea as one mass.

They nearly lost their footing numerous times, but Logan kept them upright until they went as far as they could go. The couple entwined themselves in the railing, the ship now completely vertical.

Marie glanced to either side of her. To their left, she could see Jubilee, her servant holding on for dear life. Her brown eyes were wide and haunted, her hair disheveled. Yet she was wearing that bright yellow jacket that she loved so much. That was how Marie identified her.

"Jubilee!" she yelled at her.

"Chica?" the girl responded with the pet name she had given her. It was obvious in her voice that she was so close to breaking down, only her will to live kept it from happening.

To Marie's right, she could just make out the face of Bobby Drake holding onto the support lining. It was odd how she couldn't see him breathing. As if he were as cold as the air. The boy looked at her, deep pain was in his eyes. Yet hardly any fear. She briefly wondered if his mutation -- whatever it was -- had anything to do with it.

**X X X X X **

Curse those people who couldn't move out of his way fast enough! If it weren't for them he wouldn't have to be hanging onto an open door right then, keeping an eye out for any falling people who just couldn't hang on anymore.

One thing was for certain, using a damn door to hang onto was probably ranking near the top of his dumbest ideas. Second to setting foot on this ship and joining his damn father in his stupid crusade.

Pietro swung his feet some to get some leverage on the door frame, so he didn't have to completely rely on the door itself that couldn't possibly hold him for long. His mind imagined that the creaking wasn't only coming from behind him.

But the cracking certainly ways. Pietro looked down and saw the floorboards snapping. The damn ship was breaking apart! He couldn't even describe the sound after that, it was so hideous. Passengers screaming did nothing to drown out the sound of the ship collapsing upon itself.

It rocked back slightly before plummeting back to the ocean in a free fall. Pietro's feet lost their ground on the door frame and he swung back. His fears began true when the hinges splintered apart and he didn't have anything else to hold onto.

His body began sliding towards the abyss that used to be connected to more of the ship. He yelled but as soon as his feet touched the ground, he began running.

_Titanic_ bounced on the ocean, his feet leaving it for a short time before meeting up with the floor again. Pietro didn't care who he ran over or blew away, he was not going to be that near the gap.

**X X X X X **

Right after the stern had fallen back level, Logan pulled himself and Marie to the other side of the railing. Bobby did the same thing and Jubilee was already over so she didn't move.

Faster than before, the stern section became vertical again. It was worse than any amusement ride she had been on because in this, there were no safety lines. There was nothing to make sure everything would be alright. And it sure as hell was anything but fun.

Marie cried out in fear, not understand why nothing was happened. "Logan!"

"I'm right here, darlin', I'm right here," he breathed into her neck between heavy pants.

Next to her, Bobby let out a yell as someone grabbed onto him. In an attempt to get out of the other man's grasp, he slipped and fell back with another yell. Marie squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to imagine him falling to the cold water. Tried not to imagine how soon they would be joining him.

Logan had a gut feeling as the ship slowly sank down again. "I think this could be it, Marie!" He quickly ripped off a sleeve of his jacket and bound it around one of her hands and one of his.

Her eyes widened as the water rushed to greet them, eager to take them into her folds. Marie had never stared death in the face before, but she was at that very moment. She knew what she had to do, same as Logan, and the two prepared for it.

She glanced to her side again and saw Jubilee watching the water and glancing at them constantly, seeing what they would do. Marie tried to give her a reassuring smile, but it was pointless. Jubilee wouldn't see it anyways, and what in God's name was there to smile about? They could very well be about to die.

Within a few seconds Marie made a show of taking a deep breath and saw Jubilee do the same out of the corner of her eye. Then they squeezed shut as the cold water rushed over her, engulfing her in her cold blankets. She refused to let go of the fabric which held her and Logan together and kicked and used her able arm to find the surface.

The pressure was intense against her ears and head and she felt like she was doing nothing but moving in circles. For all she knew she was. Her lungs burned for it's deprived substance, but there wasn't any for her to give it. It wasn't until her face met stinging cold air that she knew she was out and breathed out the air she had in her and gulped down new.

It was mad out there, people flailing about, using anything they could get their hands on to help stay afloat, even if the preservers would do it for them on their own. "Marie!" she could hear someone yell not far away.

The arm connected to Logan tugged and she followed it, followed him. It was so cold and her skin was already going numb, but she continued on. They swam until they were far enough away from the large mob to get some peace. There was something floating in the water that Logan took her to and told her to get on.

She didn't care what it was, but she got on it, sprawling herself across the flat surface. "W-what ab-bout-t y-o-u?" she managed to stutter out.

"Ice is better than ice water in some ways," someone said nearby them. Next to Logan a large slab of ice formed and floated in the water. Seeing as that was the only thing near, he got on top of it.

"Th-thanks, Icem-man."

"Yeah... I'm gonna go back and make more for other people. Give them something until the boats come back." Marie gaped as Drake rowed by in a very small iceboat, complete with an ice oar and a sailor hat made of ice. If she weren't so damn cold, she would have laughed at the humor. It was amazing anyone could have any now.

The young man whistled and rowed on, forming ice slabs for anyone in need.

Amidst the mass of people, a true whistle was being used to its full extent. Followed by the pleading orders of the officer connected to it, others joined in the screaming for help.

Logan knew that there was no way the boats would come back. They'd sooner let them all freeze to death. Of course, if Logan was in their position, he would probably do the same thing. If they came back, the frozen people would swamp the boats and everything that had been save in them would be in the same peril as the ones in the water.

He looked around them. But for the life of him, he couldn't tell where any of the boats were. "M-marie... we n-n-need-d to... to swim-m."

"D-don't want-t to-oo..." she replied weakly.

"You... have to, M-m-marie." Using his untied arm and the opposite leg, he slowly paddled. But with it wasn't enough to make them go anywhere. "F-fuck." Unless they both went back into the water, they weren't going anywhere.

Given the option to either stay where they were and freeze to death like everyone else, or at least trying to survive -- it was pretty obvious what he would choose for them.

Logan slide off his piece of ice into the water, causing Marie to let out a startled cry of protest. "We n-need to swim to th-the boats."

"I'm warm..."

Fuck. Warm was not good. Warm was very, very bad. Warm was just a minute away from numbness. "Come on, M-arie." He dragged her into the water, their lifebelts keeping them afloat more than anything.

Marie paddled along with him, even further away from the crowd of slowly dying people. She was no longer cold, and no longer warm. Her body felt nothing in the icy waters. She supposed that wasn't a good thing, but really didn't care. The sooner she got to a boat, the sooner she could sleep.

Their movements were slow and clumsy without any of the nerves closer to the surface to help. They didn't realize how much they took it for granted, to be able to feel what they were doing.

Logan remained persistent even as Marie began slacking off in her efforts. "I'm so tired, Logan..."

He stopped at those words and turned to face her, his wild hair and mutton chops home to pieces of ice. "Marie... stay with me... You have to stay awake, you hear me?"

"Why can't I sleep, Logan?"

"Because I said so." With that, he continued his clumsy swimming efforts. He had to keep her mind focused, keep her talking maybe. "Hey... y'know... I never did find out who the Scarlet Pimpernel was."

If she could have smiled, she would have. "I'm not going to ruin it for you. You're just going to have to read it and find out for yourself."

A few wheezing breaths came out, the best of a chuckle he could manage with freezing vocal cords. "Not even a hint?"

"Okay... Don't drink anything during the pepper-snuff incident. You'll choke."

"That helps a lot." At least she was beginning to have a sense of humor about it.

"Logan... I love you..." Marie whispered faintly, her eyelids growing heavier.

Panic gripped him. "Tell me that again when we reach someplace dry and we get some sleep." He pressed on faster, harder. There had to be a boat around some-- Yes! There was one up ahead!

"We're gonna make it, Marie. Just hold on, there's a boat up ahead." He pushed his body to the limit, the boat was still far away and they didn't have much time. Marie didn't have much time.

For a couple of minutes he pressed onwards, swimming towards the boat he saw. He was so intent on getting them to safety that it wasn't until then that he noticed Marie wasn't helping at all.

"Marie?" He paused and turned to face her. Her beautiful chocolate eyes that had gazed at him so intently many times before were closed. Another pang of fear gripped his heart. "Marie?" he asked again, panic rising in his voice. "Marie, wake up, darlin'..."

Those eyes he loved so much remained closed. Were it not for the fact he was so frozen, his eyes would have brimmed with tears about to fall. They had survived so much, they were so close. It couldn't be. He brought her still form to his and stroked her frozen hair back, away from her face. "Marie? Darlin', please don't do this to me..." He placed his bare hand against her face, praying for a miracle. For the first time Logan could remember, he prayed to whatever God would listen.

Still nothing happened.

In sorrow and defeat, he pressed his lips to her own, desperate to taste her one last time. Once he did he kissed her forehead and rested his cheek against it. Logan wasn't a man who cried over the drop of a hat. But there was no one around, no one who would notice as soft sobs shook him and the cold form of the only woman he had loved and was denied a life with. "I love you too, Marie..." he whispered into her hair.

**April 15th, 1912  
****4: 42am**

Nearing an hour after being rescued by the _Carpathia_, Jennifer stood on the deck of the ship. Ororo had been the first to board, but no one else knew that. Currently she stood behind the young girl and tried to soothe her. That had been her mission ever since the first survivors came on board.

She had finally gotten Jean to sleep, despite all the terror and hardship she endured. Even with the shields, she still felt so much. But nothing neared comparison to when her husband died. That was what was affected Jennifer the most... He had died in her arms. Never once regaining consciousness. Maybe it was better that way.

Xavier was gone... Scott was gone... Remy and Amy had been saved. Irene Adler Darkholme and all her servants, including Jubilee, were safe. Yet no word on Logan or Bobby. The two men she had been closest to.

"Logan is a survivor," Ororo tried to assure her friend. "And Bobby feels at home in the cold. I am certain they are both alright."

The sound of running feet hitting the deck made the ladies turn. Wanda Maximoff was running full speed towards them. During the time in the boats, the two had gotten over their differences and at least didn't feel a great sense of hatred for the other. "Jenn! It's Bobby!"

"Bobby?" A dead weight was lifted off of her at those words. "Where is he!"

"Trying to cheer up the kids and making a complete fool of himself down in steerage."

Her heart soared as fast as her feet could run down to the area they had put the steerage people. There weren't nearly as many of them as in the other classes, but she paid it no mind. She spotted a familiar tuft of blonde hair standing over a group of wide-eyed, shell-shocked children and leaped onto him.

"Ack!" They both fell to the deck and sprawled out on top of one another. "Jenn!" he cried in surprise and laughed as he kissed her.

Ororo looked happily down at them, thanking the Gods that something good had finally happened to them. She turned and eyed the woman dressed in red. "Have the list of names changed any?"

She shook her head sadly, auburn curls swinging everywhere. "No... Neither Logan nor my brother's names are on the list... Everyone has put their name down by now."

Ororo nodded sadly. It was another great loss to them. "I also noticed," Wanda began again, "that Marie Darkholme's name wasn't on the list either."

"Goddess, no..." the weather witch breathed out. It couldn't be. Logan would have done everything in his power to get the girl off it, how could he have failed?

"And one more thing, I'd stay away from Ismay if I were you."

"I would imagine he would be shocked about what happened. But why should that cause great alarm?"

"It's not Ismay."

Realization dawned on her at what that meant. Yet it also reminded her that despite all their losses, they still had to move onward. In time, Jean and herself could run Xavier's dream. It would be difficult, and they would need Remy and Bobby's help. But it could be done. "Wanda?" she asked as the young woman had turned away. "Would you like to go back with us? You will always be welcome at Xavier's mansion."

She smiled sadly. "Maybe in time. But I must grieve the loss of my family before I can start anew."

Ororo turned back to watch the reunion and decided to wait to tell Jenn the news on Logan. Looking up at the sky, her brown eyes turned to white as she commanded the heavens above. Dark grey clouds rolled in over the ship and began a light drizzle on everyone on board. It was only fitting for mourning the loss of so many lives, ones they held in their hearts, and ones they didn't.

**Epilogue:**

No matter how many bars she went into, she would never get used to the smell. It was always such a nausea inducing stench that she could barely tolerate. Her stomach growled as she stared at the jar in front of her, not even registering the words on the note taped to it, just on the change inside. But before she could do anything, the bartender pulled the jar away. "You want something else? Or you just sticking with water?"

Marie shook her head, unable to afford anything with no money.

A man sat next to her across the bar. A big fat wad of money was placed before him. In return, he took out a bit and said, "I'll have a beer." To which the bartender quickly got him.

The man had a cigar in his mouth and mutton chops unlike anything Marie had seen before. His dark eyes glanced at her, giving her a once over.

At the moment, something between them sparked, however faint it might have been. Destiny had spoken, and the loop began again.

**THE END**


End file.
